The Tattoo
by Voldemort's Spawn
Summary: The boys find out that Ariadne has a tattoo. Cobb, Arthur and Eames in turn make a bet to see who can find out where and what it is first without asking her. Prompt by Lobsters Forever. NOW ADDING DELETED SCENES! :D
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Rating: **Moderate T- for drinking, swearing, randomness, and some possible steamy but less explicit scenes later on.

**Summary (Prompt by **_**Lobsters Forever): **_The boys find out that Ariadne has a tattoo. Cobb, Arthur and Eames in turn make a bet to see who can find out where and what it is first without asking her.

**Setting: **Chicago… but I try to make it vague because I'm a little hick and haven't been nowhere but the south and NYC lol. Also, Cobb doesn't want to leave his kids just yet so that's why it's in America. ;)

**Notes: **This is for the lovely **Lobsters Forever.** This will be a multi-chapter fic with each chapter depicting the boys attempts to figure out the 'what and where' of her tattoo. Just so you know it took a lot of doing to force some of this out. It might just be me but I hate putting charries in uncomfortable positions… ironic no? Updates pending… I have school and a job and tons of reading and other fics I should be attending so… I'll squeeze in what I can. A little author abuse below but nothing too major ;)

Anyways Enjoy!

* * *

"Sorry," Arthur mumbled as he poked Ariadne's arm for the hundredth time.

They were doing a mock extraction for the upcoming job in Chicago of all places. At least that was what they were trying to do. Arthur was helping Ariadne hook up to the PAVIS and was having a difficult time getting the needle to stay in Ariadne's arm.

"Jesus Arthur, you're worse than a tattoo artist," she grumbled, wincing slightly as the needle sank into her skin.

"Like you know what a tattoo feels like," Arthur laughed, "There; finally."

"I'll have you know I have a tattoo," she grinned.

"A tattoo?" Cobb asked joining the conversation.

"No you don't," Eames said skeptically. "Would they even let you _in_ a tattoo parlor? You look like a ten-year-old."

She stuck her tongue out. "Yes, they would."

Cobb looked her over as he put his own needle in. "You don't seem the tattoo type,"

"Eh, it was a 'just turned eighteen' thing."

"Ah, a little rebel is you?" Eames asked with a wink.

"You ready?" Arthur asked them, changing the subject and rolling his eyes at Eames. When they all nodded, he glanced at his watch. "I'll play the music when you have ten minutes left."

They nodded and Arthur pressed the button that sent them under.

* * *

After the mock extraction run was a success, Ariadne went back to the hotel to work on her dissertation and model design due at the end of next month. Cobb and Arthur both tried to get her to sit this particular job out but she refused.

With nothing better to do, the three gentlemen ended up down the street at a small and off the main street bar. Eames apparently visited before and was the one who put forth the suggestion. The only protester was Arthur who belatedly said he hated alcohol.

"No one said you had to order anything," Cobb laughed, patting him on the shoulder as they took their seats off in a corner away from everyone else.

"It's the idea, Cobb." Arthur grumbled.

"What darling can't hold your liquor?"

"I can hold my liquor just fine, Mr. Eames," Arthur glared.

"Then prove it."

Cobb sighed and rolled his eyes as the other two stared each other down. "Now kids, play nice."

"Well now, you brought friends tonight." A young auburn-headed woman (obviously the waitress) said loudly as she made her way over.

"Darling, don't you ever go home?" Eames abandoned his blinking contest with Arthur and flashed a charming smile.

"Now honey you know I live here," she laughed, "Got a cot and everything."

"I suppose that helps." Eames paused a moment. "Odd, no matter where I sit, I always get you."

Even in the dim lighting, they could all see she turned pink but still held her own by retorting: "That's because you're a good tipper," she winked.

"Oh," he pretended to be disappointed, "I thought it was because you found me charming."

"That too," she added with a sly smile. "So boys, what cha want?"

"Darling, you know what I want," Eames smirked with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Double Scotch?"

"I was going to say you, but that works just as well."

Cobb kicked Eames from under the table making him curse.

"What was that for?" He glared.

"It's not nice to harass the waitress," Cobb chuckled.

"Oh it's fine; I've heard worse." She smiled the pink now a light red in her cheeks.

"What, from Eames?" Arthur asked seriously.

"No, from the other guys; the last table I waited on the really drunk one…" she stopped herself and turned even redder. "Sorry, I shouldn't rant to customers… so you're drinks?"

"Darling, I'm not a customer I'm practically family."

"Well, how about I tell you later then."

"Is that a promise?" He leaned forward on the table, a looked up at her.

"Eames." Cobb gave him a look and Eames reluctantly sat back.

"Maybe," she laughed. "So, drinks." She smiled over at Cobb.

"I think I'll pass on the alcohol, but water would be fine."

"Oh come on Cobb, have a little fun," Eames gave him a light shove.

"Someone has to be sober enough to get you home."

"Home? Roxie can take me home, right love?" He winked at who Cobb and Arthur now understood to be Roxie. Once again she turned red.

"I'd love too but I have to stay and help clean up. Maybe next time," she laughed nervously and looked over at Arthur, "You?"

"I'll take what Cobb's having." He gave a light smile.

"Oh don't be a pansy!" Eames said.

Arthur glared at Eames, and Eames smirked back. Cobb looked between them and knew what was going to happen next and let out a sigh while shaking his head as it happened.

"Fine, a Black Russian."

"Why am I not surprised?" Eames chuckled.

"Alright, I'll be back in a moment." Roxie said with a smile and walked off.

"You're such an ass, Eames," Arthur snapped in a low tone.

"Someone has to be."

"So," Cobb said with a raised brow, "Exactly _how_ _many_ times have you been here?"

Eames thought for a moment and shrugged. "Hell if I know. Roxie!"

"What?" She yelled back.

"How many times have I been here, love?"

"Eight. Stop yellin, Mr. Eames!" They could hear her laugh all the way in their corner.

"It would appear to be eight," he said with a grin.

"Obnoxious _and_ loud," Arthur smirked. "I think you and I should switch accents Eames."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eames glared.

"I think it means you're the unruly American and Arthur should be the classy Brit," Cobb chuckled.

They continued their conversation (or banter when it came down to Arthur and Eames) and Roxie brought them their drinks. It continued for an hour, Arthur and Eames both consuming three drinks each and Cobb could tell the difference. Arthur kept yawing and Eames got flirtier with Roxie, who took it in stride like a pro.

Somehow along the way, Ariadne cropped into the conversation and it jumped quickly to the revelation from earlier.

"I bet it's a tramp stamp," Eames smirked. "Probably her name in bold cursive with explosions of pink and purple; those _are_ girly colors correct?"

"Ariadne would not have a tramp stamp," Arthur rolled his eyes, "She's... she's not that kind of girl."

"She was eighteen, Arthur," Cobb laughed. "Young, dumb, and out to stick it to her parents."

"But she's intelligent," Arthur countered. "If she's going to get a tattoo I'm certain even at the age of eighteen she had sense not to get _that_ kind of tattoo."

"Alright Mr. 'I know everything about nothing', where do _you_ think she has a tattoo?" Eames took a sip of his drink and raised a brow to solidify his challenge.

"Her feet." He yawned.

"Her feet?" Cobb and Eames said in unison.

"It's hidden well but obviously not hidden inappropriately." Arthur toyed with the napkin under his own drink. "Her feet or foot rather, depending; would be the perfect spot."

"And what of?"

"That I can't tell you," Arthur shrugged.

"How about you Cobb," Eames turned his attention to the man in the middle. "Any suggestions?"

"Does it matter?"

Eames groaned and rolled his eyes. "You two are hopeless. You can be at least a little creative."

"Probably on her shoulder," Cobb shrugged. "Maybe a symbol."

"Cobb, _try_ to be creative. Wait, Roxie's a woman, she might have some insight. Oh, Roxie love," Eames called over to her as she wiped down a table a few feet from them.

"What Mr. Eames?" she sighed and made her way over, "if you want a drink forget it, I'm cutting you off."

"Now darling, you know me better than that," he winked. "You're an esteemed college woman, do _you _have a tattoo?"

"No."

"I'm being serious pet, no patronizing or flirting."

"Seriously, I don't. I'm too chicken shit to get one," she laughed. "Why?"

"A colleague of ours, Ariadne, has one but we don't know of what or where," Arthur said blandly. "We're trying to figure that out and Eames thought it would be helpful to ask you, obviously."

"Why don't you just ask her?" Roxie said, deciding she might as well be useful and took up the empty glasses.

"Because speculating is so much more fun," Eames grinned wickedly. "In fact, I propose we make a bet. First one to find out what and where the tattoo is wins."

"Wins what?" Arthur yawned.

"Gloating rights, of course."

"Any rules?" Cobb asked with a smile. He had a hunch what the response would be.

"Fuck no." Eames waved his hand in a shooing motion. "You just cannot ask her out right. If you do, you lose."

"Sounds simple enough."

"Well, if you boys are done, I'll bring the tab. Split it three?"

"One will be fine; I'll get it." Cobb smiled.

"Like bloody hell you will! Ignore the deranged man in the suit pet and I'll get it."

"Over my dead body. I will _not_ let _you_ buy _my _drinks," Arthur turned to Roxie. "I'll get my own thank you."

"Over your dead body? Why you rude-"

Roxie sighed and looked at Cobb. "So one bill?"

Cobb nodded, Arthur and Eames bickering around him.

"You're such a stick in the mud, Arthur."

"You're such an ignoramus, Eames."

"Oh, the kiddie can use big words."

"Well, at least my words are bigger than your-"

"Will you two stop it?" Cobb yelled.

Arthur and Eames instantly shut their mouths and looked at Cobb wide-eyed, as if they were ten year olds on a playground who awaited punishment. "You wonder why I opted to stay sober," he grumbled. "Not another word from you two until we're out the door, understood?" They nodded. "Good."

Roxie brought back the bill and much to their un-vocalized displeasure, Cobb paid for it. Roxie gave them a look when she told them bye and they only waved.

"They can't talk until they're out the door." Cobb laughed.

"Oh got cha. In that case, I love you, Mr. Eames; we should go out… what, no? Okay, break my heart then." She laughed when he childishly stuck his tongue out at her. "Sorry, I couldn't help it!"

"Help it my ass." Eames mumbled once out the door.

"You really need to stop harassing her. Her fiancé might not like that," Arthur yawned.

"Fiancé? She's not engaged." Eames grabbed Cobb's shoulder. "Sorry."

"Scotch got the best of you?" Cobb laughed.

"Maybe."

"She had a ring."

"Oh that's rubbish. She wears that to deter the creepy old men."

"It obviously doesn't work well." Cobb smirked.

"Look Cobb," Eames moved his arm to wrap it around Cobb's shoulder to steady himself; "I'm not old and I will have that bird in bed before this job is over even if it kills me."

"In that case," Arthur yawned, "can I have your watch? You won't need it when they bury you."

"Har har, you're such a comedian."

They spent the next five minutes getting to the hotel (in one piece thanks to Cobb) and to their rooms.

"Remember, all's fair in war. There will be war tomorrow," Eames laughed.

"May the best man win, which will be me," Arthur said smugly. "I was the best man, after all, right Cobb?"

"Go to bed both of you." Cobb shoved them both in the direction of their rooms.

Once the two troublemakers were locked away, he went to his own room and five minutes later collapsed on the bed, slipping into sleep.

* * *

**Oh the humanity of it all XD **

**For some odd reason, I can't see Arthur drinking nothing too strong... that and the Russian drinks are 'classy' to me which I think fits him. As for the yawning, drinking makes him sleepy... like a kid. Awww Arthur's just a lil kid :P **

**And Eames, the drunk bastard... poor Roxie... it might look like she's enjoying the attention but I know from firsthand experience it's just being a good actress on the job. Oh what the hell, its Eames... she was soooo enjoying it XD**

**And Cobb. Fun loving Cobb; at least I think he's fun loving when Malasaur isn't on the rampage. I can't wait till they start trying to find the tattoo. Hmm this is going to be fun. **

**FYI: Rings sometimes work when wanting to deter old men… not always but mostly. I know… I've pulled that now at the job I work at :P**

**PS Sorry for lack of space bars eariler... I was so excited to post I forgot them XD**

**Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:**The Tattoo

**Chapter Title:** Arthur's first attempt

**Rating:** T- Same

**Poll:** On my Author page, I set up a poll to see who you guys think should guess what her tattoo is. Obviously, Arthur is attempting this time, however that does not mean he won't try again. You can make up to **two choices** but you can only vote **once**, so choose wisely! So far **four** have voted and **Arthur** is winning =D. If you have another in mind, you better vote, vote, vote!

**Author Note:** First off, I want to thank everyone who added this as a favorite and/or subscribed and reviewed to it. This is my most popular fic EVER and I'm bouncing off the walls with joy. I was surprised at all the positive feedback I've gotten, especially regarding the OC Roxie… who was just a sub-character I had fun with :P.

That said, enjoy!

* * *

Ariadne looked between Eames and Arthur. It was midmorning and they were in the abandoned (abandoned was always the best) building, working on the upcoming job which was nearing in two weeks. They were both on opposite sides of the room and both of them were acting odd. She finally put her design down and went over to Cobb, who was trying to figure out the best tactic to get the information their client wanted.

"Hey, have the layout finished yet?" he asked glancing up when she stood in front of him.

"Of course," she flashed a smile. "Um, is it just me or are those two acting… different?" She nodded back to Eames and Arthur, both still lost in their own world.

"Eh, a little but nothing new," Cobb shrugged.

He looked up finally to see that Ariadne had a general look of concern on her face. He smiled lightly at that; she was always so caring.

"I promise, Ariadne," He continued, "they're fine. Arthur's hung over and Eames, well he's hung over and more than likely put out over the fact I ruined an opportunity for him."

"Hung over? Both of them?" She asked with raised brows. "But Arthur doesn't drink. He hates alcohol."

"Oh he drank last night," Cobb smirked. "Eames called him a pansy."

"Oh, well in that case I can see… wait you three went out and drank last night?"

Her tone went from concerned friend to mother hen in a split second and stared down at him with crossed arms. Cobb, in spite of being nearly ten years older than her, coward slightly at the glare she sported.

"It was just a few," he backpedaled. "And I didn't drink; I was the designated escort back to the hotel."

Ariadne uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips, her expression telling Cobb that his explanation wasn't good enough.

"It wasn't like we got drunk and painted the town obnoxious colors," he grumbled. "I can promise no severe Tom-foolery took place."

She seemed satisfied with the answer and dropped the glare. However her hands remained on her hips.

"Well, I know you are all adults but I'd appreciate it if you three didn't go out gallivanting in the middle of the night; I do not need a call in the wee hours of the morning informing me you've been arrested or worse."

She gave a soft smile indicating she was only half serious. Cobb couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Yes, mother," he said with a smile.

Ariadne smiled a little bit bigger, and went back to her layouts.

* * *

Arthur watched Ariadne the entire morning taking note of her attire and looking for the prime opportunity to set forth his plan. He'd spent the few hours alone in his room after they got back before falling asleep, planning while he sobered up. It still didn't deter the hangover headache he was currently sporting but he was certain it lessened the effects.

It was a simple plan, ingenious really. He would let his reputation and self-image precede him, using it to his advantage to prove _he_ was right. He had to be right; he was Arthur, the Point Man; _the best_ Point Man in the business if he was honest (and he was always honest). He was also always right; always. It felt childish to play along with Eames' game _knowing_ that he, Arthur, was going to win, however that was the rules he agreed to. There was no way he could be wrong, it was his job to know the minute things that made a person tick, from quirks to habits to even taste in art or in this case, tattoos.

Prime opportunity presented itself once Eames and Cobb left to go get lunch, leaving him and Ariadne behind to walk out together. He mentioned that later that evening, he'd like her to stop by his room so he could give her some important notes on locations familiar to the subject that would be helpful with building the dream.

"I would have brought them with me, however I have a tremendous headache; I forgot and left them on the desk." He lied with ease.

"We can go get them now if you want," she with a concerned look. "In fact, if you want to go and lie down for the rest of the evening, I'm sure the others would understand. I'll let them know where you are."

"It's not something a little aspirin can take care of, I'll be fine," he gave a small smile. "And I'd rather not waste time walking all the way back to the hotel."

"I'm sure-"

"Don't worry about, it can wait till later. In fact, it'd be better to wait; I'll be able to go over them with you in depth that way."

"Alright," she said with the concern still in her voice. "If you need to lie down, don't hesitate to just go."

"I'll be fine," he repeated.

"If you say so," she sighed.

He held the door for her and as she walked out, he smirked. Phase One: complete. They met Cobb and Eames at a small brasserie two blocks south of the warehouse. When they walked in and took a seat, Eames' eyes flickered over to Ariadne's.

"Ariadne, are you doing anything important this afternoon?" He asked.

Arthur glanced over the menu at him and gave him a smirk confusing him slightly. However, Eames seemed to shrug it off and waited for Ariadne's answer.

"Actually, Arthur and I are going to look over some notes. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just curious," he said nonchalantly. "What about tomorrow? Any plans then?"

"Not that I know of," she replied laying her menu down.

"Wonderful," he grinned, "in that case, do keep it clear. I have a favor to ask of you later on."

"Favor?" It was Cobb who asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh it's nothing really, if Ariadne doesn't mind of course," he flashed a smile at the young woman.

"As long as it doesn't involve drugs, sex, or stripping, I don't mind."

"You say that like you've had that problem before," Cobb chuckled.

"You have no idea," she replied seriously, making them all laugh.

They ate lunch quickly, and on the way out Eames cut in front of Arthur blocking him from the exit.

"Nice move, Artie boy, I didn't think you had it in you," he smirked.

"What can I say, I'm full of surprises," Arthur replied blandly, stepping around him.

"Check but no checkmate," Eames said, following closely behind.

"Yet," Arthur gave a knowing smile and walked quickly to catch up with Ariadne and Cobb.

Just as promised, Ariadne followed Arthur that evening to his room. Cobb stayed behind to do whatever Cobb did and Eames ran off before they had a chance to say good night. As he swiped the key to get into the room, Arthur debated for a moment if this was worth the potential embarrassment of having his reputation solidified falsely. He thought of the fun he'd have rubbing it in Eames' face and decided it was.

He kicked his shoes off and looked back to see that, as expected, Ariadne had not. He sat his briefcase on the bed and looked back at her as she shut the door.

"Ariadne, if you don't mind will you please take your shoes off." He said easily.

She stared at him with a raised brow, but slowly slipped off her shoes. He suppressed a grin as he watched her, his eyes constantly flickering to her feet.

"You really are a stickler aren't you?" She laughed, setting her shoes beside his.

"Bad habits die hard," he smiled.

Inwardly he cursed; her feet were covered with socks. Of all the times to wear socks with flats, Ariadne chose today.

"What?"

His ears burned when he realize he was staring at her feet and she called him out on it. He needed to explain, and fast.

"You're socks…" he said without thinking, "Aren't you worried about getting them dirty?"

She looked at him with a _'you did not just seriously say that' _face and his ears burned more.

"Um, not really, are you?" She asked the hint of a tease in her voice and her expression still in disbelief.

"Yes," he lied again.

"Oh my- fine," she went to sit on the bed but stopped, "I can sit here right or will the wrinkles give you nightmares?" she smirked.

"You can sit," he sighed, pretending to be serious.

She rolled her eyes and sat down, pulling the socks off her feet. Now was the moment of truth. He watched intently as the white fabric slide off one foot and then the other.

"There, happy now Mr. OCD?" She laid the socks on top of her shoes.

"Yes," and he forced a smile.

That was another lie. He was far from happy; more like in-between disappointed and frustrated. There was no sign, what so ever of a tattoo on her feet or ankles. Just to make certain, as he went over the notes, he would sneak a peek by walking away as to get a better view since her jeans hiked up slightly while she was sitting.

How could this be? He was Arthur, the Point Man. He was always right, _always._ Yet, here he was proven wrong. It was near ten before he bid her goodnight and finally was able to let his guard down, frowning and pacing while new and better ideas formed in his head.

Not two minutes after she left, the hotel phone rang. Curious to see who it was, he gently picked it up but before he could speak, a very familiar voice reached his ears from the other end.

"Back to square one, huh darling?"

Arthur slammed the receiver down and he hoped it at least left a slight ringing in Eames' ear.

* * *

**Arthur's a little arrogant bastard, isn't he? =P Let me know how you think of his characterization! Arthur was always the prim and proper one to me lol. I also am aware this wasn't as funny as the last but it might just be me. Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Eames First Attempt

**Rating:** T

**Warning:** I totally didn't proof read this... oops

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing but Roxie and the drink she mentions. It's really called a Finnijer and I invented it myself. It's delicious and kind of like a 'Kiss on the Lips' only with cherry juice and it's a nice pink color.

**Author Notes:** SO SORRY this took sooooo long. Letters came pouring in and I can't get them sorted fast enough! Oh, Eames wants me to tell you all that you can… What? I'm not repeating that- No, I don't care how bad your feelings are hurt. *sighs* Eames is mad because only two people voted for him (he says he loves you, whoever you are). The nicer version of what he said was pretty much you all can kiss it. Anyways, yayness! Everyone loved the last chapter (that reviewed anyways). Tons of suggestions going out, which thanks a lot for! By all means if you have one, submit it, who knows, it might get used. =D

Enjoy

* * *

Eames couldn't help but smirk smugly while Arthur glared at him the next morning. After all, he knew damn well Ariadne would not (nor did not), have a tattoo on her foot. While she was an exceptionally strong woman, feet tattoos for lack of a better phrase hurt like hell. He also knew that would be the first place Arthur would look. Eavesdropping through the door proved him correct in both aspects and Eames just _had_ to taunt him afterwards.

"How does it feel to be wrong, darling," he asked lazily over Arthur's shoulder as he passed by to grab a book off the makeshift book case against the wall.

"Go to hell Eames," he grumbled back, shuffling his notes.

"Only if you go with me," Eames said in a sing-song voice. "I hear it can get quite lonely this time of year."

"This isn't over." He paused and then tilted his head to look over his shoulder slightly, "Next time you hover at my door, I'll make sure to hit you with it."

"Of course honey, whatever you say."

Eames patted Arthur on the head, making the young man toss random objects about in hopes of smacking the Forger. He neatly dodged all projectiles and swung his way around the table, throwing a devilish smirk Arthur's way. Arthur in turn let out an unflattering growl while shooting the epitome of daggers before returning to his papers.

Satisfied with his taunting for the day, Eames left the Point Man to his notes and wondered off to find something to do. He supposed he could just study over the person he was going to portray, however that was boring. Whistling, he made his way down the hall to go find someone else, preferably a little brunette, to annoy.

He didn't get too far when instead of finding Ariadne, he spotted Cobb. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leaned against the door frame and waited for Cobb to notice him.

"Shouldn't you be doing something?" Cobb glanced up in less than a second, throwing a smirk Eames' way.

"Oh I am. Bothering you is something, isn't it?"

"Something _constructive_ Eames, not _destructive_."

"Oh Cobb, you're so boring. And I already messed with Arthur; he'll be flustered for at least another half hour."

Cobb sighed and rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, he remained silent and Eames looked him over. Standing back up straight, he left the doorframe and walked over to the chair in front of Cobb's desk and pulled it backwards, taking a seat and leaning onto the table top looking over what Cobb was doing.

"Why is it," Eames asked airily, "That you seem so unenthused about the little bet we all agreed upon?"

Cobb stopped writing and thought for a moment, before looking up, Eames following suit so that they met each other's gaze.

"Unlike you two, this job is a little bit more important to me than trying to find out where Ariadne keeps her rebellious side hidden."

"Have you at least tried? Come on Cobb, don't be a Debbie Downer."

Cobb chuckled and smirked, "Whether or not I've tried is something you'll have to figure out on your own. I'm not being a downer; I'm playing the game my way."

"That's the spirit!" Eames clapped, leaning back against the chair.

"Do me a favor and call Yusuf," Cobb said changing the subject. "We're going to need some more serum before this is over. Tell him to book a flight."

Eames gave a mock salute and left. Three hours later, a call was made and he and Arthur would be getting Yusuf from the airport the next day. It was nearing the late afternoon, when Ariadne made her way into Eames' workroom. He didn't say anything as she took a seat next to him.

"So Eames, this favor you speak of, what exactly is it?"

Ariadne studied him and waited for him to answer; inwardly he was smirking. She had sought him out after he had purposely avoided her all day. That's how he wanted it to be; make her think she was in control. He finally looked up at her and gave a light smile.

"Well darling, if you're up to it, I was wondering if you would go out with me tonight."

Her eyebrows shot up making him chuckle.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't fret: it's not what you think." He leaned onto the table propping his elbow and cradling his face in his hand. "The favor is simple: I want you, if you take the offer, to go out with me in hopes of making someone jealous."

"You want me," she pointed to herself, "to help you make someone jealous?" She laughed loudly, "Is this a girl I'm making jealous or are you trying make someone who likes me jealous? It has to be the former, right?"

"Correct. Her name is Roxie and her soul existence is to torment me."

Ariadne stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, not believing he was serious in the offer. The whole time Eames was chanting in his mind for her to _'just bloody say yes, damnit!" _

"You do realize you're asking _me?"_ She said, still in shock. "You're sure you don't want Arthur to do this? Between me and him, he's more likely to turn a head."

"Now, now don't go pulling that false insecurity mess. We all know you're absolutely stunning." He winked and her cheeks turned a bright pink. "If you don't want to, you don't have too." He let out a sigh of slight disappointment and defeat.

"Well if you insist," she gave him a sly smile after getting her composure back. "So what's the plan?"

Eames grinned boldly. "Where do I begin?"

* * *

As decided, they meet at the lobby of the hotel that evening. Eames was very down-dressed, in jeans (a rarity) and a green long-sleeved dress shirt. Ariadne had to admit: for once Eames actually looked kind of nice. However, once he spotted her, he frowned.

"Ariadne, what are you wearing?" He looked her over.

She blushed, and he slightly felt bad. It wasn't that what she was wearing was hideous, it was just _plain._ Plain and boring and oh-so long sleeved. He should have figured this was going to be a problem.

"Darling don't you own something less… mousy?"

"Mousy?"

"Mousy." He repeated.

"What's wrong with this?" She asked looking down at her outfit.

"It's just," He pondered how he was going to say it; "It's just a bit boring. You don't own anything more, I don't know, fun?" He half smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "It depends on what your definition of 'fun' is."

"Let me rephrase: Do you own anything remotely sexy?" His half smirk became a grin when she turned a light shade of purple.

"I- Really Eames?" she whined, "What's wrong with this? It's perfectly fashionable."

"You're supposed to be making Roxie jealous, not go to sleep!" He hooked her arm and steered her to the elevator. "Besides, I'm interested in seeing just how well you clean up."

Ten minutes later, Eames is waiting outside her door. She refused to let him in with her and he wondered what she was doing. He hoped she'd come out in something more modern than her normal artistic bohemian garb. Just as the idea crossed his mind that he could always send her back if he didn't like what she wore, she stepped out.

"Better?"

She gave a bashful smile and waited while he looked her over. She changed her washed-out skinny jeans for a more regular, darker pair. Her long-sleeved layered top was replaced with a black halter. While it was not low-cut, the neckline meeting just at the base of her collar bone with a loop that allowed the strings to wrap around her neck in a choker like fashion, it was absolutely stunning on her.

It took him a moment to wrench his eyes away and remind himself that the attractive woman in front of him was Ariadne: his coworker and practically little sister. He must have been gapping from the amusement that sparkled in her eyes. He regained his composure and focused on the whole point of this exercise.

"Turn around," he said.

She obliged him and when she was done with her quick spin, she smiled at him.

"Well?"

"Absolutely gorgeous love; I think I'll have to fight the men off you."

"Oh hush," her cheeks flushed again.

"I'm serious, Ariadne. As expected, you clean up very nicely." He then extended his arm, "shall we?"

She rolled her eyes but took it anyways.

On the elevator ride down back to the lobby, Eames pondered as to what he was going to do next. He'd found out much to his displeasure that there was not a single marking on her upper arms or shoulder blades. There was always, he thought to himself, the neck and middle of her back which were covered with her hair currently. No, he corrected, her neck was bare too. He'd learned that much from the Fischer job. Still, it had been in the dream world. She could have always willed it away.

"What are you so deep in thought for?" She asked.

They were on the sidewalk outside and he almost forgot she was next to him. He blinked and looked over at her.

"I was thinking about how _lovely_ your hair is," he said quickly, reaching out and running his hand through it.

He felt her shiver and in normal circumstances would have smirked and teased her. Nonetheless, this was not normal circumstances; teasing could wait. He cupped the far side of it with his hand and pulled it gently, dragging it to lie over her left shoulder. Once again he inwardly cursed. There was nothing; not on her neck or the rest of her upper back.

"Thanks?" She asked with a cautious smile and changed the subject. "So where are we going again?"

"Ah," he replied, snapping out of his daze and draped his arm over her shoulder, "this way."

Less than a block down, they reached their destination. She looked at the building when they got to the door and back at Eames.

"This better be worth the shot," she said, eyeing it again skeptically.

"Every shot is worth it, darling," Eames grinned, holding the door open for her.

"Oh dear, here's trouble," a voice called from behind the counter.

He looked up to see Roxie mixing drinks with a fever, trying to get them out as fast as they were given to her. She flashed a smile at him when he and Ariadne took two seats in front of her. Eames smirked a little when he saw the redhead's smile falter just a bit when her eyes laid on Ariadne.

"More friends?" She asked, her smile returning to its previous condition.

"Have I ever told you I love a capable woman who knows what she's doing?" He grinned lazily, watching her work.

"Only a hundred times, Mr. Eames."

"This is Ariadne; Ariadne this is Roxie."

Ariadne gave a small wave and Roxie's eyes widened when she heard Ariadne's name. However, just as quickly she recovered and extended her hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Eames says nothing but bad things." She winked.

"Figures," Ariadne giggled, shaking her hand.

"So what can I get you?"

"You know what I want," Eames said, leaning on the counter.

"Watch it, Mister," Roxie said, pointing her finger but grinning all the same. "And you Ariadne?"

"Hmmm, I don't know, I don't drink much." Ariadne shrugged.

"You like sweet drinks?" Roxie asked while she made Eames' drink. "And do you like frozen drinks?"

"Sure; to both."

"You like peaches?"

"Oh I love peaches," Ariadne said slightly airily.

"Good, then I'll make you a Roxie." She said and put Eames drink in front of him, moving on to start mixing Ariadne's.

"A Roxie?" Eames asked with a raised brow, "You have your own drink? I'm impressed."

"Damn right I got my own drink; I've been here long enough," she laughed and switched on the blender. "It's absolutely delicious, if you like peaches that is."

She poured it into a tall glass and a small bit into a shot glass. Sitting the shot in front of Eames, she placed a straw in the tall one, and a garnished it with an orange slice and two cherries, placing it in front of Ariadne.

"Try it!" She grinned at them.

Eames eyed it before drinking it slowly, letting it linger in his mouth. He made a face when he finally downed it.

"Too sweet," he said, then added with a wink "but the same can be said for you."

Ariadne on the other hand, took a sip and grinned.

"Wow; this _is_ delicious. I'm not a drinker but I think I just found me my drink." She laughed.

Ariadne and Eames then spent the next hour talking, drinking a few more drinks, and discussing and learning random things from one another. Eames continued to fish for information because the more he learned the easier it would be pinpoint the basics of what she might have founded her tattoo on.

In that time, three men came up to Ariadne in hopes of which ranged from getting a number to getting her in bed. However, all it took was one swift movement of Eames arm snaking around her waist to deter two of them. The other took Roxie saying the words, "So how long have you two been married again?" to get the other guy to leave.

"I'll be right back," Ariadne said excusing herself, hopping off the stool and making her way to the restroom.

"Don't get attacked!" Eames called back, chuckling when Ariadne stuck her tongue out at him.

"Cheater, cheater," Roxie said once Ariadne was out of earshot and she waved her finger at Eames with a raised brow and a light smirk.

"Cheater? Me? Never." He winked and took a sip from the drink she sat in front of him.

"Seriously, getting her drunk to extract the information is not fair."

"You're right, extracting information is not fair." He paused and took another sip, "yet I'm not extracting, I'm merely allowing her to tell me whatever crosses her mind. If the tattoo happens to crop into the conversation, well that's a bonus for me."

She rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "You never cease to amaze me."

"Now love, no need to be condescending." He eyed her thoughtfully, "Are you still angry with me?"

"Yes," She said flat out with a false smile.

"I said I was sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough." She snubbed her nose and then walked off back to the other end of the bar.

"What's your problem?"

Ariadne's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He didn't realize he was even brooding until she returned and said something.

"Nothing," he lied. It wasn't the time or place to dive into deep personal issues. "In fact, I think I'll return in a moment myself."

Eames got up and walked away, leaving Ariadne sitting at the bar. She watched him walk off and once he was out of sight, she turned her attention to Roxie.

"You know, I'm only here because he thinks I'll make you jealous." Ariadne said, taking a sip of her drink. "He's got it _bad_."

"No, he just can't take no for an answer." Roxie wiggled her finger at Ariadne with a smile. "I know good and well what he's 'got'. It's always the same: they think just because I work at a bar, I'm an easy lay. I have an education you know; a BA in history and writing, working on my MA."

"Then why-?"

"Do I waitress?" Ariadne nodded. "Well, it's easier to go to school and work this way. The tips aren't that bad either, especially when I'm scheduled to mix, like I am tonight."

She walked away, handing the drinks off to another waitress, leaving Ariadne to think for a moment. When Roxie walked back over, Ariadne looked over her shoulder to see Eames still M.I.A.

"He's not that bad once you get to know him." Ariadne defended. "I promise, he seems like a stuck up bastard but deep down he's this little kid just looking for acceptance."

Roxie laughed sarcastically. "Well don't look now but that 'little kid' is looking for acceptance in the form of a tall blonde."

Ariadne's eyes followed where Roxie was pointing and sure enough, Eames was sitting at a table, close up to a blonde she didn't know. Grumbling curses, Ariadne slammed her drink down and marched over. He didn't notice her but the blonde did. She looked up shocked at Ariadne's displeased expression causing Eames to follow her gaze.

"Eames, what are you doing?" Ariadne put her hands on her hips and glared.

"Talking to this lovely lady here, what are you doing darling?" He asked, batting his eyes.

Ariadne frowned and grabbed him by the arm, jerking him out of his seat. The blonde was forgotten, left to laugh to herself while little Ariadne dragged Eames back to the bar.

"I'm sitting there trying to convince her what a nice guy you are and you're over there lollygagging with a blonde. Why is it always a blonde?" She asked mostly to herself before they got to the counter.

"Blondes have more fun." He replied offhandedly.

"Roxie," Ariadne called, ignoring Eames, "we're ready."

Roxie held up her hand, letting them know to give her a minute. Once she handed off more drinks to two other patrons at the other end of the bar she made her way over.

"But I want to stay," Eames pouted.

"Uh no," Ariadne gave him a look and he clamped his mouth shut. "Will this cover the bill?" Ariadne handed some cash to Roxie.

"Yeah, let me go get your-"

"No, keep it." Ariadne waved dismissing her.

"Ariadne let me go." Eames said but she ignored him.

"But-" Roxie started her eyes wide.

"Keep it, trust me. You put up with _this,_" she motioned to Eames who glared, "on a regular basis. You deserve it."

"Are you sure?"

"Good night, Roxie," Ariadne ignored the question and walked off, continuing to drag Eames behind her.

"Good night darling," Eames waved back and blew a kiss, "I'll miss you."

Roxie waved and turned a light pink. He grinned for a split second at the fact he'd made her blush however, Ariadne ribbed him, making him wince.

"What was that for?" He tried to wiggle from her grasp as they stepped outside but to no avail.

"Being an embarrassing ass," she huffed.

"Who put your panties in a bunch?"

"I don't know Eames," she frowned and continued to stomp back to the hotel. "I get dressed up because you asked me too. I spend an hour fighting off drunks and trying to convince this woman of yours you actually give a shit and you ruin it. Eames, you fail; game over."

"You did not just inform I 'fail'," he chuckled. "How old are you again?"

"You fail, Eames; FAIL! F-I-A-L Fail, fail, fail." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Alright I get the point." He rolled his eyes and then instantly felt his face drop. "You really think I failed? That I ruined it?"

"Pretty much," she yawned. "The only step left is to go grovel at her feet. She still isn't going to sleep with you; she has an education you know." She added seriously.

Eames rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. After that they walked in silence until they reached Eames' door, a few feet before her own.

"If you want, I can teach you the ways of groveling." She smirked while Eames opened his door.

"Really, well if_ you_ want, I can teach you a few things myself," he said, giving her a look and a smirk as he leaned in close to her.

"Urgh, Eames, no; you know better!" She said pushing him away from her and added with a laugh, "Go to bed, you're drunk."

Another quick shove and he stumbled backwards into his room. Before he could get a word in, she slammed the door leaving him alone. Pouting he flopped on his bed. Nothing had gone according to plan; at least _something _could have. It was Murphy's Law or something like that right? Then his cell phone rang. Not bothering to see who it was he pressed send.

"Hello?" He asked lazily.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

Eames glared at the wall. "Fuck off Arthur." He could hear laughing as he slammed his thumb down on the end-call button.

The next morning, Ariadne noticed the silence between Arthur and Eames but this time did not bother to even ask. That silence followed them all the way to the airport, where they meet Yusuf, who also noticed the profound awkwardness lingering in the air.

"What's your problem?" Yusuf asked both Arthur and Eames.

Arthur didn't say anything, getting into the driver seat, Eames in the front and Yusuf in the back it wasn't until they are all in the car that Eames spoke.

"Our problem is Ariadne."

"What's wrong with her?" he was puzzled.

She was a nice girl, intelligent and caring and Yusuf for the life of him could not wonder _why_ she would put them in such a foul mood. If anything Ariadne was the one to put everyone in a good mood.

"She has a tattoo and we can't figure out where it is." Arthur grumbled, pulling out onto the highway.

Yusuf raised a brow. "She has a tattoo?"

"That's correct," Arthur nodded.

"So why don't you just ask her?"

"Ah, but that's the deal," Eames said looking back from the front seat, pointing a finger at Yusuf. "We want to figure out where it is without asking her."

"So far, no feet-"

"Or arms/shoulders are donned with markings."

"Okay," Yusuf said thoughtfully before smirking. "I bet it's a tramp stamp."

"That's what I said! I'm thinking her name, you?" Eames asked excitedly making Arthur roll his eyes.

"Nah, she's not that simple. A maze, maybe; or a Celtic knot or something, you know intricate."

"I didn't think about that. You're probably right."

Eames then got lost at wondering what exactly the little Architect was hiding. Two minutes of silence passed before he suddenly hit Arthur on the shoulder, making him jump and jerk the wheel. He quickly corrected and looked over at Eames.

"What was that for?" He yelled, his heart slowing from just being sent on a short roll-a-coaster ride.

"It's brilliant!" Eames grinned, "We'll get her drunk and you can get her naked. Everyone wins: you'll _finally_ get laid and we'll know what and where Ariadne's tattoo is!"

Arthur drove for a moment not saying anything. Yusuf was however, stifling his laughter and giggles while Eames grinned, thinking he'd finally found the solution to their problem.

"You have no idea how tempted I am to just run your side of the car into the railing and tell Cobb it was an accident."

"Oh Artie, don't be a prat. It's common knowledge that every gay man wants to romp in the sheets with a woman at least once."

At that, Yusuf let out a loud laugh no longer being able to contain himself. Arthur too, let out a chuckle.

"Well Eames, that explains a lot. No wonder you want to get into that waitress' pants so badly."

"You're damn right," Eames smirked.

He could have retorted in a different manner, however it was easier to take the hit Arthur threw at him. Yusuf stopped laughing and stared at Eames.

"You're joking, right?"

Eames didn't say a word, only shooting a smirk at Arthur who was thinking the exact same thing he was: let Yusuf sweat it out. Sweat it out he did; they didn't utter another word until they got to the warehouse and it was only when Yusuf gave Eames a strange look, did they break down and inform him they were just kidding… for the most part.

* * *

**Haha! I'm sorry but Yusuf just seems like a slight homophob to me. I hope that doesn't offend anyone XD Gosh, this is taking longer than I thought! Plus I'm making m****y OC into something bigger than she needs to be. Bad Roxie. And Cobb, what the heck Cobb? Gah, characters: they never do what you want them to do.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Cobb… does not make an attempt.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

**Author Notes: **Alright, question for the masses. Roxie; people like her or rather, no one has complained about her. So, what I'm asking is, is she popular enough to keep referring to or after this chapter do I need to just faze her out? I'm anticipating the former but you can never tell. I don't want to get into Sue-ish waters and that's why I'm asking. Add on the fact that I don't want her to take over the fic, well you get my drift I hope.

Anyways, thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter =D

* * *

After watching the boys walk out to get Yusuf from the airport, she sought out Cobb.

"I think there's something wrong with Arthur and Eames. They've been like that for two days straight now." She said, flopping into the chair next to him.

"Don't worry about them, they'll be fine." He replied, not looking up.

"But…"

"They're just miffed at the moment."

"Oh," Ariadne sat there for a moment, watching him draw out the 'plan of action' for the heist as she liked to call it. "So does that mean-"

"I'm going to let them sweat it out a few more days," he cut her off and shot her a smirk.

She just rolled her eyes, got up and went back to her own drawings in the other room.

Two days later and still nothing, not that any of them really tried. Yusuf suggested they just drug her and look around until they found it. That idea was shot down by both Eames _and_ Arthur who found it slightly disturbing; as Eames had put it:

"If we're going to strip her, she needs to at least be half coherent- legal issues and all that jazz."

Arthur suggested they extract the information. While it was a plausible idea, they all quickly realized none of them were quiet certain just _how_ militarized her mind was. Cobb told them he never taught her anything; still she was a fast learner and could have easily picked some of the tricks through the internet or just by studying their marks. All came to the conclusion that none wanted to find out the hard way how skilled she was at blocking extraction.

Then Cobb, who'd remained relatively mum on his part of the deal, gave them a shocking revelation that seemed to make sense. Ariadne had requested the day to do research for her dissertation. Therefore, it was only the boys in the warehouse and thus was free to discuss the matter openly.

"I'm starting to think she doesn't have one," he said nonchalantly, putting down the papers on the table.

They were all seated around a large wooden table in mix-matched chairs, combing through documents. It seemed Arthur found new information about the mark that could make or break the job and they all needed to thumb through all the previous notes to make sure nothing else was missed.

"She better have one," Arthur grumbled. "I've been through hell racking my brain. She wouldn't lie… Would she?"

"Arthur, darling," Eames said condescendingly, "All women are liars. They're trained that way."

"Oh so you _were_ trained to lie. I knew it." Arthur smirked. Eames just rolled his eyes.

"Ariadne wouldn't lie about something that trivial," Yusuf chuckled.

"You obviously don't know her that well," Cobb retorted with a half-smile.

"She isn't lying," Eames grumbled, "she wrinkles her nose when she lies."

They all stared at him.

"What?" He said huffily, "I'm a Forger; I read people."

"Obviously you're not as good as you think since you're still hounding that woman" Arthur smirked, "No means no; especially in Spanish, Eames."

Eames threw a folder at Arthur, the papers flopping in his face.

"Don't get smart with me," he said darkly, while Arthur picked up the papers.

"Oh, sorry," he said seriously, "didn't realize she shut you out completely."

"Cobb," Eames growled, "If you don't restrain you're Point Man, I'm going to kill him."

"Okay kids, that's enough." Cobb said sarcastically.

"I think you need to put them in time-out," Yusuf chuckled.

"I need to hire different crew members, that's what," Cobb grumbled. "Seriously, my kids behave better than you two."

"That's a load of bull," Arthur said seriously. "Phillipa is the devil and James is her advocate."

"Arthur, they're kids; they didn't know any better." Cobb rolled his eyes.

"They ruined all my ties," Arthur said in a higher octave, "ALL OF THEM!"

Yusuf snickered; remembering the past Easter they all spent at Cobb's. Phillipa and James got into Arthur's suitcase and made his ties 'prettier' by dipping them in food coloring like they had the eggs.

"I thought they improved them but that's just me," he said.

Arthur sighed, getting back in his seat and gave Yusuf a 'really?' look.

"Can we please get it together?" Cobb sighed, "We have a week left before we do this job."

"I propose that if none of us figure out what her tattoo is by the day after tomorrow, we just ask her." Eames sighed as well, leaning onto the table. "She's harder to crack than the Pentagon. Wait, sorry I meant Fort Knox. That job was harder than the Pentagon one."

"You'd think they would have made it a little harder to break into the leading country's main defense headquarters." Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

"Arthur, we used to work there; of course that job was easy." Cobb snickered.

There was pause and Yusuf blinked.

"Wait, you guys broke into the Pentagon?"

Eames, Arthur, and Cobb all smirked at him.

"Something like that," they said in unison.

That afternoon with they all departed, Cobb stayed behind. He was in no means a paranoid man, however, if something can go wrong it will. Thus, he was going over every inch of the plan to ensure that every escape route had another escape route to back it up.

Between looking over the model (he was the dreamer. Mal hadn't shown up in his dreams in months and after three practice runs, they decided that he could give dreaming a try again.) He made a note to tell Ariadne in the morning that the third route needed a connection to routes two and four.

Normally a job wouldn't need such precautions. However, the Mark had a history of slight mental disturbance. Those disturbances, according to Arthur, were years ago. The Mark hasn't had an episode since but it still never hurt to be prepared.

"Cobb?"

He startled and looked up to see Ariadne standing in the doorway and glanced at his watch.

"Ariadne, what are you doing here? It's nine o'clock at night."

"I figured you'd be here."

He frowned; she didn't look it, but her voice told him she was upset.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she shrugged and walked over to him, stopping on the other side of the model. "Something's missing, isn't it?"

"That's not important right now," he looked her over, "What's bothering you?"

She sighed and gave him a half-hearted smile. "It's- I know you guys don't want me doing this anymore and with graduation around the corner… I guess I'm a little torn." She ran her fingers along the edge of the model and sighed. "I really like dreaming, and building in dreams. Sure, it's not the most legit way to go about making a living but… I feel like this is where my heart is. Giving it up would be… devastating."

Cobb studied her for a moment.

"It's your life, Ariadne," he said softly, "you're in charge and I know in the end you'll make the right decision for yourself. What everyone else thinks isn't that important."

He watched some of the tension ease off her shoulders.

"Thanks, I needed that."

"I know you did."

"So… what's missing?" She grinned, peering down at the model.

"Well," Cobb leaned forward and pointed to the spot where the third exit was "this exit route needs a split just in case… well, you know."

"In case the Mark goes crazy."

"Pretty much," he smiled.

"I can work on that," she studied the layout. "It'll only take a moment."

"No, no, no," Cobb shook his head, "You've been working all day." He walked around, grabbing her shoulders gently and steering her away from the model. "_You_ need a break."

"Me?" She laughed, "You're the one here at nine p.m.!"

"Which is why we're leaving now," he grinned.

Cobb gave her a gentle shove out the door, making her laugh while he turned the lights out.

"Does this mean we're going somewhere?" Ariadne asked as they headed down stairs.

"Yea… to the hotel so we can get some sleep to rise and shine in the morning."

"Oh my- really, Cobb? You're such a dad." She laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Call it paternal instinct." He grinned.

They were now on the deserted sidewalk, heading back to the hotel. Ariadne took note to start bringing a jacket. Chicago isn't the windy city for no reason.

"How 'bout I call you old." She shot back, smirking.

"Hey," Cobb pointed a finger at her. "Don't make me ground you, young lady. I already had to put Eames and Arthur in time out today."

"What did they do this time?"

"The usual: they got in an argument over who loves the other more." He let out an exaggerated sigh, "You know how those married couples are."

"Oh I do," Ariadne nodded quickly. "I just figured they were fighting over Yusuf."

"I think they did that yesterday."

"Oh." She paused,"Have you-"

"Nope."

She eyed him as they entered the hotel and he glanced back with a smirk. She gave a half smile and just rolled her eyes.

* * *

**Mwahaha if you read my Snuggles story (which has a plot brewing!) the Pentagon thing is mentioned there too :P. Anyways, Cobb is a strange fellow; wonder why he didn't try to sneak a peek? Hmmm. We'll see how this plays out I guess =)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** While Arthur and Yusuf get a fail, Eames gets a win.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

**Author Notes: **Sorry this took so long. Issues came up. I might not be updating for a while as I'm supposed to be studying as you read this. Anyways, thanks for all the feedback! I appreciate it greatly. OH! **Scream Awards 2010**! You must go to** spike dot com **and **VOTE for Inception!** They are up for almost everything… Tom Hardy= Outbreak Male, Leo= best lead male, Joseph GL= Supporting actor, Ellen Page= best lead female, and a whole sh*t load of things for effects and scenes. **SO GO VOTE! Go Team Inception!** Okay enough of that, on with the story.

* * *

The next day, everyone was rounding the end of preparations for the job. The next few days would be devoted to test runs along with Cobb getting used to his landscape. It was well past nine when everyone was still moseying about the warehouse. It was well past ten when Eames and Cobb bid everyone good night and headed off.

Soon it was just Ariadne, Yusuf, and Arthur. Seizing the opportunity, Yusuf wandered to Ariadne's end and peering into her work area, where she was hovering over a layout.

"Ariadne would it be any trouble if I ask for your assistance?" Yusuf asked slowly, pausing to let her look up. "Just for a moment? Pretty please?"

"No, not at all," she grinned. Abandoning her layout, she walked over to the Chemist. "What shall I be assisting you with?" She added with an air of amusement.

"Well, it's a bit… never mind, I'll just ask Arthur," Yusuf shook his head and walked back down the hall.

"Wait? What is it? Why can't I help?"

Inwardly, he was grinning. He could always count on her to fall for the 'tease and walk away' approach. He cleared his throat and stopped halfway out the hall, turning to see Ariadne marching quickly to catch up with him.

"Well, it's not that you can't help, it's," he paused, pretending to try and find the best way to put it. "There is research going around on a new organic sedative. However, it's known to have its side-effects, one being abdominal discoloration."

"All right," she said slowly, her brows rose questioningly. "You want to try it on us, is that it?"

"Correct."

"I don't see the problem. I am not allergic to anything, man-made or organic. Why not try it on me?"

"You see, Ariadne, in order to know whether the abdominal discoloration occurs while you're under, you'd have to lift your shirt."

He waited and studied to find any sort of resistance in her expression. He was relieved when he found none.

She stared at him in confusion. "And? It's just my stomach."

He shrugged, "If you don't have qualms than sure, you can be our test dummy."

He grinned and she rolled her eyes. Ten minutes later, she was in the large room with Yusuf and Arthur. Yusuf was shaking the vial of purple fluid while Arthur prepared the PASIV.

"I'll put my own needle in," Ariadne smirked, lying back in the lawn chair. "I don't need a million holes in my arm."

"Hmm, you're a real riot," Arthur said blandly but with a half-smile.

"All ready," Yusuf said, walking over to the Architect and Point Man. "Um, Ariadne?" He said, eyeing her shirt.

"Oh, sorry," she rolled up her shirt to her bra, revealing her pale stomach. "Don't laugh," she said with slight unease, "I know I'm pasty."

"More like shiny," Arthur smirked, "We could probably put you by the window and flag down planes if the light hits right."

"Smart ass," Ariadne stuck out her tongue while she stuck the needle in her own arm. "You need to stop hanging out with Eames."

"Now, Ariadne," Yusuf said seriously, changing the topic. "This is a light dose; if you need to wake yourself, you'll be able to with ease."

She nodded and he placed the vial in the machine. Arthur then pressed the button, the line connecting to her arm filling with purple liquid. Within moments, she was fast asleep.

"Nothing," Arthur frowned, staring down at her pale and unblemished abdomen. "Absolutely nothing."

"I'm telling you it's a tramp stamp," Yusuf grinned, "You should flip her over and check."

"With that lax of a sedative, no thank you, however, you can have at it." Arthur said seriously.

Yusuf rolled his eyes and waited. Within the set time limit, as expected, Ariadne's eye lids fluttered open.

"Well?" she asked, blinking and reaching into her pant pocket without looking.

"So far so good," Yusuf smiled.

Ariadne looked down, withdrawing her hand from her pocket. She stared at her stomach a moment before yanking her shirt back down.

"That wasn't that bad," she said, pulling the needle out of her arm. "I couldn't tell the difference."

"Wonderful!" Yusuf replied in true honesty, "Now let's test Arthur."

"I call putting the line in! Revenge is mine," Ariadne said with an evil grin.

"Why do I let you talk me into things like this?" Arthur groaned but not one to back down, he took a seat in the lawn chair anyways.

Meanwhile, Eames and Cobb parted ways, Eames having gone off to the one place he was finding more and more comforting. He wasn't in the mood to drink, however he ordered one anyways from a bubbly blonde waitress. Barely ten minutes after she returned with his drink he was starting to get bored. Then he heard his name being called.

"Don't you ever go home, Mr. Eames?"

He grinned before he could even turn his eyes to the left to find the voice that called to him. As expected, his eyes landed on Roxie.

"I should be asking you the same. Not even on the clock and you're still here." He said, noting her lack of her black uniform which was replaced with a bright red top and jeans.

"I told you, I live here." When she got closer, she eyed the chair beside him. "May I?"

"People might get the wrong impression love, but you're welcome to it." He winked, leaning back in his chair.

She rolled her eyes and sat down beside him.

"What are you doin here? You're such an alkie." She giggled, sitting her drink down after taking a sip.

"I'm not an alcoholic." He said firmly. He eyed her; something was different but he couldn't put his finger on it. "The question is what are _you_ doing here? Shouldn't you be off gallivanting with important people, like your friends?"

"I had a bad day, so I came ta drown my sorrows."

"Let me know when you succeed." Eames said smartly, "I'll gladly volunteer CPR."

She smacked him on the shoulder, giggling.

"Har har," she leaned back in her chair. When her giggles died down, she sighed. "I think I bombed my midterms."

"I highly doubt that. You're a smart girl." He chuckled at the look she shot him. "What do you want me to say? You failed?"

"I don't know, maybe?" she whined and took a swing from her drink, wincing slightly.

"What is that?" He asked.

The liquid in the glass was clear but he knew it wasn't water. She shot him a smirk.

"Try it," she grinned shoving the glass in his face.

"What is it?" he repeated.

"Jus' try it."

Eames eyed her skeptically before slowly taking a sip. His smiled in amusement at Roxie while he handed her back the glass.

"A little bit north of the Tennessee border for that, don't you think?" he grinned, making her giggle.

"Naw, jus' a lil," she grinned with a glint in her eye.

He studied her for a moment and realized what was different. Her voice was different; instead of the higher end of the Mezzo Soprano scale he was used to, her vocals were a note lower… and did he hear what he thought he did?

"Is that a bit of a drawl there, darling?" He smirked.

"Yea," she said bashfully, "I only get a accent when I'm jus' a bit tipsy." She held her fingers a half an inch apart.

"Sounds like to me you're one sip away from daisy dukes and banjo music;" He smirked, "Don't tell me you brewed this yourself."

"Shhhh!" She held her finger up to her mouth and giggled, pretending to look around nervously. "I ain't supposed to have it or share it for that matter."

"Well pet, keep drinking _that_ and you'll be doing more than drowning." He said seriously, finally picking up his own unattended drink.

"Psh, wha'ever. I can hold my liquor thank you. It ain't like this is som'thin' I ain't had before."

"That's not liquor, love, that's rubbing alcohol."

"Yea, well ain't nobody askin you," she retorted, bobbing her head as she spoke.

"I thought you were from here," Eames asked with a raised brow.

"Nope, born an' raised in redneck central," she grinned.

"Why Chicago?"

"I wanted to see snow," she said seriously.

"You can't be serious," he chuckled, "doesn't it snow in 'redneck central'?"

She frowned and shook her head solemnly. Then Eames frowned. Surely he hadn't said something wrong.

"Are you alright?" He asked cautiously.

"No," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears and she sniffled, "My father died a year ago today."

He blinked. That was unexpected.

"Well, darling I'm sorry to hear that," he said quickly, taking a drink from his glass.

Inwardly, he was panicking. At any moment, there was going to be a gush of tears and if he ran off, a) people would think he caused it and b) he'd look like a jackass for leaving. Eames was at a loss. Women did not cry around him and he never let them get to the point of trying. Albeit, he was a Forger, he could empathize what she was feeling because it was his job to understand other people but _dealing_ with feelings was a whole other world he tried not to dive into.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled again and wiped away the water pooling in the corner of her eyes. Shaking her head, she blinked and smiled.

"So, snow," she continued as if nothing happened. "No, no snow where I'm from."

Eames didn't say anything. Her response was not what he anticipated.

"So where you from?" She asked with a soft smile.

"Everywhere," he frowned again. "Are you certain you're alright?"

"I try not to think about," she shrugged. She toyed with her glass for a moment and then looked up at him with a smirk. "So that Arthur guy, he's kin'a hot. You should give me his number."

Eames scoffed, "You wound me; a straight shot through the heart."

"I give love a bad name," Roxie replied in a sing-song tone, laughing hysterically at the end.

"I'm serious," he said once her giggles died down. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine," she waved her hand dismissingly. "Ask me 'gain an' I'll smack ya."

"Okay, okay. It's a good thing then because you're not getting Arthur's number." He faked a pained look, "I pour out my heart to you and what do you do? You betray me by flaunting your affections over another man."

She rolled her eyes, and leaned forward onto the table.

"Like you flaunted yer drink down my shirt?"

"I apologized three times for that already." He frowned. "I was drunk and it was an accident."

"Sure it was."

"It was!"

"Yea, well, I hold grudges," she half-grinned.

"I can tell." He took a finally swing from his drink, deciding he didn't want any more despite it being half empty.

"So no number? Come on! He's hot!" She shoved him lightly.

"Once again your indifference to my feelings wounds me."

"Hmm, I bet it's in your phone."

Before he could react, she snatched up his cell lying out beside his drink. He went to grab her, however, regardless of being intoxicated, she moved quickly and jumped out her seat to jog away from the table. Several people stared for a moment but quickly went back to what they were doing.

"Haven't you heard of respecting people's privacy?" He called. He was too lazy to try and go after her.

"Naw, respectin' ain't somethin' I do," she grinned and called back and toyed with his phone.

"Darling, give me my phone back." He tried to sound angry; it wasn't working.

She continued to press a few buttons and just as he was actually thinking of getting up to try and take it back, she walked back to the table.

"I can't work the stupid thing," she pouted, handing it back to him.

"Serves you right."

"Well, I'm going home," she said grabbing her glass.

"So soon? I'll miss you," he pouted.

"Sure." She laughed.

"Can you get back on your own or does someone need to walk you?"

This time he was serious. He knew she was a big girl and could take care of herself, however, being alone and intoxicated as well as being a woman in a big city was not a safe combination.

"I'm fine, I got someone waitin outside. I's supposed to be out there five minutes ago," she giggled. "And Mr. Eames?"

He sighed and batted his eyes looking up at her in a sarcastic manner to show he was paying attention. Grinning, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"_Check your phone."_

His brow shot up and she kissed him on the cheek, walking away without a glance back. Blinking a few times, he finally snatched up his cell, and scrolled through it. He grinned; in the R's was the name Roxie followed by a new number.

The thought of it being fake crossed his mind however, for the moment, he relished in triumph. He could worry about authenticity later. He quickly paid his bill and left, heading back to the hotel. He had three faces he was dying to rub his victory in and sitting around was not accomplishing the job.

* * *

**Hmmm wonder what Cobb is up too… Seriously, I don't know. He like, ran away… . And Roxie… she's such a bad girl! She ran away with my plot –pouts- oh well, Eames needs a win… just like Tom Hardy so go VOTE! XD**


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Arthur's Dilemma and Ariadne's fury.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. –sighs-

**Author Notes: **So people are complaining about Roxie. Well, she's not going anywhere, not to sound condescending. The only real reason she got face time in the last chapter was because I used her as a vessel to express my fears of failing my mid-terms and as space filler. Even so, just think of her as a sub-plot, like in _Failure to Launch_ with the black haired girl and the mockingbird. "_I get sad sometimes too, you know_" XD. Okay… anyways… Scream Award Voting has closed =( all we can do now is cross our fingers.

OH! **Batman!Nolan Verse and Tom Hardy Fans!** It seems there is talk for our fav Forger to be in the next installment of Batman! =D Word is he's being cast for a villain (Hopefully the Riddler) InceptionErection says that only Joe (JGL) can be the Riddler, which would be totally kick ass too! (Let's face it, he's just drooling hot in a suit). Tom could be the badass mafia version of The Penguin. I mean, we already know he's hot when he wields a grenade launcher, just imagine what he could do with a bullet shooting umbrella. ;)

Right, enough fan-girling… on with the show!

* * *

Ariadne walked quickly down the hall of the fourth floor of the hotel they were staying at, the numbers catching the light as she passed them. Finally, she arrived at the one she needed to find and knocked on the door. She could hear Cobb's voice through the door and she wondered who he was talking too.

"No, I haven't. Yes, I plan on doing it, just not right now. Yes, I bought one. Hold on, someone's at the door."

Right then Ariadne heard the lock click and the knob turn. She grinned at Cobb when he peered around the door, his cell pressed next to his right ear.

"Miles, I'll call you tomorrow. Alright, I will," Cobb sighed and hung up the phone, slipping it into his pocket. "You have your signature, 'I need something,' look." Cobb grinned, "What's wrong?"

"We need you to come to the warehouse," Ariadne flashed a toothy smile.

"What's wrong?" This time, Cobb said it in a more serious tone.

"Um… well… you see…" Ariadne glanced up at the ceiling and bit her lip, "Yusuf wanted us to try this new compound-"

"He what?" Cobb said loudly, anger etched in his face "I _told _him he was not allowed to test his experiments with _anyone_ on the team."

Huffing, he went back inside and Ariadne watched with slight amusement as he grabbed his jacket and stomped back over to her.

"Calm down," she giggled, "We're alright, it's just… Arthur, well he's-"

"Where are you two going?"

Ariadne and Cobb looked over to see Eames making his way toward them.

"Back to the warehouse," Cobb said with still furrowed brows.

"I see, sneaking off shag where no one would think to look," Eames grinned and winked.

Cobb gave him a look and Ariadne turned pink.

"Eames, where have _you_ been?" Ariadne asked, changing the subject.

"Aw, she's blushing," Eames grin widened when she hit him on the shoulder. "I actually was out winning a bet. Where's Arthur, I'd like to gloat some before I sober up."

"You certain that number's real?" Cobb smirked knowingly, leaving behind what little anger toward Yusuf he had left.

"Does it matter? I got it, she put it in there." Eames stuck his tongue out. "Therefore, I win."

Ariadne glanced at Eames and Cobb with a raised brow. After a second she shook her head, giving up on trying to figure out what they were talking about.

"Look, Arthur is currently at the warehouse with Yusuf." She said impatiently, "He's also presently a bright shade of eggplant."

"What?" Eames and Cobb stared at her in disbelief.

"If you would listen," she frowned, putting her hands on her hips, "you would have found that out five minutes ago. Can we head to the warehouse now?"

"Oh, I have to get the camera for this," Eames smirked and started to walk back down the hall to his room.

"No," Cobb said defiantly, grabbing the back of Eames' shirt, halting him in his tracks.

"You're no fun," Eames pouted.

Ariadne rolled her eyes and let out a deliberately heavy sigh. She then started to walk to the stairs without a word, Cobb and Eames taking the hint and quickly catching up with her.

* * *

"I'm purple," Arthur repeated for the hundredth time, staring down at his hands.

Shell shocked was only half of how Arthur was currently feeling. They were still in the larger room, Arthur sitting up on one of the lawn chairs with his feet planted in front of him on the concrete floor. Over at the table in front of him, Yusuf was mixing and pouring liquids like mad.

"I figured if it worked on Ariadne, it would work on you," Yusuf said apologetically for the hundredth time. "No one has ever been turned purple all over before."

"I thought you were just joking," Arthur said lightly from shock, still staring at his hands and arms, "you know, as a guise to get Ariadne to show us her stomach."

"Arthur," he replied with a sigh, "You know I don't joke about things like that."

"Dear god, he looks like that blueberry girl from _Willie Wonka, _only purple."

Arthur and Yusuf glanced up to see Eames eyeing Arthur with utter amazement as he, Ariadne, and Cobb entered the room.

"Do you taste like blueberries?" He continued, with a grin as he approached Arthur.

Arthur glared and swiped at his hand when Eames poked his shoulder.

"Yusuf," Cobb glared and crossed his arms, "I _told_ you not to experiment on anyone."

"It wasn't an experiment!" Yusuf said, now stirring a large vial of pink liquid. "It's been tested before and no one, I mean _no one_ has ever turned all-out purple before."

"Yeah, I took it and I didn't turn purple at all," Ariadne added in.

"You know, we could dye your hair orange and you'd be Mahna Mahna! From the Muppets!" Eames grinned.

"Your range of old American pop-culture knowledge never ceases to amaze me," Arthur said flatly, with a glare.

"That reminds me!" Eames sat down beside Arthur on the lawn chair and pulled out his phone. "I would like to take this time to gloat."

Arthur raised a brow and then peered down at the screen when Eames handed him the phone. He rolled his eyes and shoved back the phone when he saw what Eames was so hyped about.

"I might add she asked about you," Eames smirked, "I wonder if she'd still think you were 'hot' if she saw you purplefied."

"It's probably fake. Who's to say you didn't put it in there yourself?" Arthur smirked back.

"Well call it, Mr. I-know-everything-about-nothing." Eames shoved the phone back.

The two continued to argue, neither wanting to give in. Ariadne tilted her head and glanced over to Cobb after watching Eames and Arthur banter.

"Do I want to know?" He shook his head, "That's what I figured."

"Tada!" Yusuf grinned, causing everyone included Eames and Arthur to turn and stare at him. He took the small vial and walked over to Arthur with it. "Drink this; if it works, you'll be back to your regular self."

"And if it doesn't?" Arthur frowned looking from the vial to Yusuf.

"Um, well, hopefully nothing." He gave a half grin.

Arthur sighed and took the vial. "Here goes nothing," he muttered and downed the liquid. He scrunched up his face and handed Yusuf the vial back. "That's disgusting."

"But it worked!" Yusuf beamed.

Sure enough, Arthur was slowly losing his purple tint. Within the next two minutes, he was back to his original state.

"I am never," Arthur told him once they headed back to the hotel, "_ever_ trying your 'new' stuff ever again."

"Right," Yusuf nodded. "Although I wonder… I wonder what DNA marker made the serum react that way. It was all organic, it shouldn't have turned you any color, except on your abdomen. The only reason it would even change there is because sometimes the compound reacts to food the subject previously ingested. You haven't ingested Dragon Fruit or something similar within the last twenty-four hours have you?"

"Yusuf; I'm in the middle of Chicago, Illinois, what do you think?"

"You'd be surprised," Ariadne smiled, "Local markets are full of various vegetables and fruits from around the world."

"No," Arthur sighed, "I have not."

"Hmm, very interesting," Yusuf paused for a moment, "Do you think I could-"

"No." Cobb and Arthur said in unison.

"But I just want to test-"

"No," Cobb frowned, "No testing on the team."

"Fine, I guess I'll just have to wing it and hope this never happens again," Yusuf pouted.

"That's right," Arthur said firmly.

There was silence as they went into the lobby of the hotel and waited on the elevator. Normally, they would never group up and stay together as they currently were, however, they were all certain that one time wouldn't hurt.

"Hello!" Eames said, once they got into the hotel elevator and it shut, "I won the bet! Why aren't you people a little more ecstatic?"

"Because you cannot prove that number is real." Arthur snapped.

"You mean to tell me that whole hounding of Roxie was just to prove you could get her number?" Ariadne crossed her arms at glared, not only at Eames, but at the other boys as well. "And you three condoned it?"

"No… It turned into that but it wasn't that way at first," Eames tried to backpedal.

"Uh huh, I'll let her know that when I see her." Ariadne kept her arms crossed and waited for the elevator to stop.

"Ariadne, what does it matter?" Cobb asked exasperatedly.

"It matters because you all think this is just a game, that women are something to play with. You're adults, not children." She stomped out as the elevator door opened and went off to her room.

"I'll go talk to her," Arthur sighed following after her before the others could speak.

"Ariadne?" Arthur knocked, since she slammed the door before he could stop her.

"What?" She called through.

"Let me in."

"No."

"Ariadne, let me and tell me what's really bothering you."

There was silence and he could hear her feet walk up to the door. Stepping back, he let her unlock and open the door. She gave him a forced smile and let him in.

"What's bothering you? I know it's not because Eames thinks getting some woman's number is a goal to achieve."

"I can't talk about it." She said frowning, giving him a sad look. "I could but… I don't know. I hate being so emotional."

"It's alright," he stepped closer to her and hugged her to him.

"It's just…" she sniffled and held him tighter, "If I tell you, can you promise me you won't tell anyone else?"

Arthur pulled back and put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a serious look.

"Ariadne, you know that you can trust me. If you want to tell me that is fine, I swear to never speak of it to anyone. You do know you don't have to though, right?"

She nodded and gave him a smile while she wiped her eyes. He let her go and leaned against the opposing wall, waiting for her to get herself together.

"I… It's just… For the sake of my sanity, let's just say I'm 'involved' with someone and right now I'm not sure what he's thinking." She said quickly, sighing with relief afterwards.

"Oh," he replied in the most stoic way possible.

Arthur wasn't predicting _that_ was the problem. She stared at him expectantly and he wondered if he was the right person she should be talking about this to. He was not at all aware she was seeing someone. This changed things; drastically and he needed to sort out his own thoughts and emotions before he could even begin to help her. He decided to play it off.

"Have you spoken with him?"

"Yes, but Arthur it's insane! One moment he's telling me he loves me and the next he's acting as if I barely exist! I understand why he's doing it, I do but that doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"How, how long have you been seeing him?" Arthur asked, trying to remain nonchalant.

"A while," she said thoughtfully. "I really love him but I'm not sure where it's going. I want to believe it's becoming something more than just a simple fling but I'm getting tired of waiting." She paused, "I wish saying that to him was as easy as it was saying it to you."

"If he really loves you, Ariadne, I'm sure he'd be willing to listen and understand."

He gave her a small smile and she smiled back before hugging him fiercely.

"Thank you, Arthur."

"You're welcome." He gave her a pat on the back and she let him go. "Get some sleep, all right?"

She nodded and stood at the door as he exited.

"Good night, Arthur,"

"Good night."

He sighed once she closed and locked the door. He didn't have much time to mull over his thoughts as when he looked over; Cobb, Eames, and Yusuf were waiting several doors down at his room. Arthur sighed again; he really didn't want to talk at the moment.

"Is she okay?" Eames asked first when Arthur got within earshot. "Did I make her mad?"

"No," Arthur did his best not to frown or purse his lips, "Apparently she's seeing someone who isn't treating her very kindly."

"Is he hitting her?" Yusuf snapped, which made them all stare, "Because if he is he'll wish he'd never been born."

"No," Arthur replied slowly; he'd never seen Yusuf angry before. "She says he just ignores her sometimes and she's getting tired of it."

"What does she mean by ignoring her?" Cobb asked.

"I don't know, I didn't ask. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this." Arthur furrowed his brows, "All I know is she's feeling neglected. Can I get into my room now?"

Eames and Yusuf, who were blocking the door but not purposefully, stepped aside. Arthur then stuck his key in, unlocking it and looked back at them.

"She'll be fine," he said in a softer tone, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

The other three watched Arthur lock the door and stood in silence.

"What's his problem?" Yusuf finally whispered.

"It's obvious, Yusuf, use your head," Eames hit him lightly on the side of his head, "Arthur's smitten by Ariadne but Ariadne is smitten by another. Classic soap-opera plot; I think we should call ours 'As the Dreamer's Turn.'" He waved his hand across the air as he said the words in hope for a more dramatic effect.

"Eames, you're not watching television anymore; period," Yusuf rolled his eyes.

"You think Arthur's that upset?" Cobb asked worriedly, eyeing the door.

"He'll be fine," Eames rolled his eyes. "Will get Roxie to shag him and he'll forget all about little Aria."

"I thought _you_ wanted Roxie," Yusuf asked confused.

"I know how to share my toys," Eames laughed, "I promise, Cobb, he'll be fine. Stop looking at the door like it will vanish at your will."

"Fine," Cobb grumbled, "It's nearly midnight and I'm off to bed."

"I second that motion," Yusuf yawned.

"Right then, party disbanded," Eames nodded with false authority.

Yusuf and Cobb both rolled their eyes and they all once again bid each other good night before turning into their separate rooms to mull over the evening's events.

* * *

**And that, ladies and gents, is the sound of my fan base for this fic disappearing because of the situation I just put Arthur in. Hmmm, well I never play by the rules anyways. Trust me, I started a war on facebook (I did for real… it got ugly and all I did was post a status, my friends were the ones that fought!) so I'm used to controversy.**

**Also, it's getting close to tattoo reveal time. Hopefully it'll get lighthearted again by then. I honestly don't know why I threw in this slight angst. I blame Eames and his American soap-operas! :P **


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Heartbreak Warfare Intermission

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt but don't I ever wish it was. –sighs- I don't know how Ellen Page kept her head on set with them… I really don't.

**Author Notes: **OMG! 100 reviews! Hot damn. I've never had this many reviews before! Wow. I feel the love. Thank you!

Well… to all the Inceptors, I say this **FTW! Six Awards! Tom Hardy got Breakout Male Performance, Joseph Gordon-Levitt Best Supporting Actor and Leonardo DiCaprio got Sci-Fi Actor. All the boys got what they deserved. (Even Shutter Island got Best Scream Play). Also Inception got Best Fight Scene (Anti-Gravity anyone?) and was the ULTIMATE SCREAM! =D **

Personally I just cared about my boys (I can pretend them to be mine… they don't know I exist so it's all good XD)… the Ultimate Scream was a bonus =D

**Did I mention RDJ, SJH, and MR got ones too? IM2 shout out :P**

So, ideas flyin around at me; thanks, they help. (Totally liked the one with Roxie ending up with Dom… whether it was a joke or not lol. Don't freak, it's not happenin… that I know of O-o)

Also, I'm a people pleaser… and I'm trying to take a stance and just do what I want. –takes a deep breath- I know this is humor but I was trying to add character development. But I totally appreciate good and bad reviews. I need them; if I don't know what's wrong I can't fix it. I apologize for the sudden detour to unhappy town. It was sudden and I've put myself in a corner for it.

As a peace offering for that and this long ass Arthur note (freudian slip... just noticed XD) , I give you the nice image of Arthur sleeping shirtless and pants-less. ;)

* * *

Arthur jolted from sleep at the sound of a loud noise. He groaned when he heard it once more, realizing it was a knock at the door. He didn't bother to glance at the clock; huffing, he got up and considered grabbing the t-shirt hanging on the chair stationed at the back left next to the desk. He went to the door, deciding the t-shirt was too much work for his half-awake disposition. He didn't even bother donning the pajama bottoms on the floor. Instead, he unlocked the door.

"Who is it?" He grumbled, trying to rub his eyes into opening wide enough to see without squinting.

"Artie! Still asleep?" Eames raised a brow, "Do you always answer the door in your boxers?"

He grunted in response and walked back to his bed. Eames let himself in and shut the door behind him. He watched Arthur crawl back under the blanket as if he wasn't there with the anticipated enjoyment of what was to happen next.

"Arthur?" There was a noise that Eames took as a response. "You realize it's almost noon."

Eames counted to five in his head; he got to three.

"What!" Arthur leapt out of bed with the skill of a cat. "Noon! Holy- Why didn't you wake me?"

Eames bit his lip as he watched the normally calm point man scramble about the room, gathering clothes to change into. He didn't know what was more humorous: Arthur in a tizzy or that Arthur was not the neat freak everyone took him for. There was also the fact his hair was sticking up in odd angles, but that trumped as the funniest. Arthur was snatching up a shirt from the desk when Eames cleared his throat.

"If you'd pay attention darling, you'd realize it's only seven."

Arthur stopped in his tracks (which was at the closet, shuffling through pairs of pants on hangers) and gave Eames a deathly glare.

"What?"

"It's seven; stop having kittens. The staff won't appreciate it and I'm sure you don't want to pay the bill for the cleanup."

Arthur frowned like a five-year-old who'd been told babies come from storks while he stared at his mother's growing belly.

"Why did you wake me up then, Eames?" He crossed his arms and waited.

"I came to see how you were feeling," he made himself comfortable leaning against the wall.

"I'm feeling slightly pissed at being awoke two hours before schedule."

Arthur went back to gathering clothes but in a less hurried pace. Laying the clothes out on the bed, he started to dress. He slipped on the white long-sleeved and began to fasten the buttons.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant, and I'm fine."

"It was nearly two years ago Arthur; you need to let it go."

"I did let it go."

"Obviously not," Eames scoffed with a disbelieving smile, "I saw your face; we all did."

Arthur huffed as he slipped on his black pants. "I was shocked, that's all."

"Shocked? How can you be shocked? You two didn't even officially date! A kiss and heavy flirting do not contest dating."

Arthur's response was to throw the t-shirt from the desk chair at Eames. Eames sighed and after a moment, pulled the shirt which landed on his face and head, off.

"Everyone thinks you prim and proper but you're such a cootie queen." He scrunched up his face and threw the shirt back to Arthur.

"Did you really just say cootie queen?" Arthur rolled his eyes as he caught then folded the shirt. "I apologize that my reputation exceeds me. Never mind I was turned _purple_ yesterday and found out Ariadne is seeing someone and she didn't tell me."

"Ah," Eames, tired of standing, walked over to the unoccupied chair beside Arthur, "I see now."

"She tells me everything Eames and I didn't realize until last night we haven't spoken much." he sighed and picked up the pajama bottoms, folding them.

"And that she's officially over your unofficial fling, correct?" Eames smirked when Arthur looked over and shot him a glare. "It's alright to be a little miffed, it's called being human. You know you _are_ human?"

"Did you figure out if that number is real?" Arthur asked putting the shirt and pants now folded away.

"Hmm, no; care to see?"

Arthur was fixing the bed while Eames pressed buttons on his cell. He was not paying Eames much attention until he shoved the cell against his ear.

"It's ringing," Eames said letting go of the cell, leaving Arthur to catch it.

"Eames," He frowned but didn't lower the phone.

Eames just gave a smug smile and sat back down while Arthur listened to the rings. Five rings in; Arthur was ready to hang up, writing it off as a false number. He jumped when a female voice came on the line, leaving Eames to chuckle.

"_Hello?"_

"Um- is this Roxie?" Arthur shook his head to wake himself more. He had to be half asleep to say the word 'um'.

"_Yes… who is this?"_

"Arthur."

"_Arthur? Arthur wh- oh!"_ He raised a brow when he heard a few distant curses. "_Eames' friend right?"_

"That would be an accurate assumption."

"_Look, did he, um- did he say __why__ he gave you this number?"_

"Actually, I'm on his phone (there was a sigh of relief on her end). He honestly thought it was fake," he smirked when Eames glared at him, "You realize now he'll never leave you be?"

She giggled into the phone, "_Yeah, I do. I don't know what I was thinking… Well, I wasn't really; I was drunker than Cooter Brown. Oh don't tell him that I said that! I mean, I __was__ thinking… I just- I normally don't drink being as I work at a bar. But I had a bad day and it was my dad's… I'm sorry; I shouldn't be bombarding you with my life story."_

"Don't fret about it. I'm Eames' friend; I've learned to be a good listener."

Eames shot him a questioning look to which he shrugged. Roxie giggled into the phone again.

"_I bet. Did he mention anything else?_"

"There was a bit of jealousy in his tone when he relayed how you blatantly informed him you think that I'm 'hot'." There was silence and he wondered if she hung up.

"_Well, I won't deny I said it,"_ she finally said. "_You are in a classy way. You have that 20's and 40's mobster feel. Sorry, I know that's a bit random; I'm a sucker for the Jazz and Swing Age. Don't let that go to your head."_

"I'll keep that in mind." Arthur grinned, not knowing if it was because he was starting to flirt with her or the fact Eames' questioning look was becoming sour.

She laughed nervously, "_Hey, did you find your friend's tattoo yet?"_

"Not yet, we're beginning to believe she doesn't have one."

"I asked you to see if the number was real, not chit-chat." Eames glowered from his chair.

"It seems Mr. Eames is jealous again," Arthur smiled when he heard her laugh and Eames glare more, "If he harasses you too much, just steal his phone and call me. I'll come to your rescue."

"_Alright,"_ she laughed, "_I'll hold you to it. Bye." _She hung up and he handed Eames his phone back.

"'_I'll come to your rescue?_'" Eames mocked, "What kind of pick up line is that?"

"It wasn't a pick up line," Arthur chuckled, "I was just trying to be humorous."

"Well keep your humor-arse to yourself."

"Someone's touchy; I can't help it if she likes me better." He smirked. "Apparently suits are her thing."

Eames did not laugh at Arthur's joke. Instead he got up and brushed past Arthur to the door.

"I'll see you at the warehouse," Eames said rather coldly.

Arthur watched him with mild bemusement as he slipped out the room. And Eames thought _he_ was the one with issues. Arthur went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and stared in horror at his hair. He grabbed a comb instead of his toothbrush and tried to fix the mess. At least he now knew what Eames was laughing at earlier.

* * *

At half-past eight, Ariadne still had not emerged from her room. Cobb hesitated at her door. He didn't want to wake her but they needed to talk. He finally knocked and she surprisingly promptly answered the door.

"Morning," she said blandly and walked back into the room.

He took it as an invitation, shutting the door behind him as he entered in. She was in the bathroom brushing out her hair and he leaned against the door frame watching her.

"Arthur said something, didn't he?" She asked, not looking away from the mirror as she laid the brush down and put her hair up in a ponytail.

"Yes and no. He only told us you were fine and he promised not to talk about it."

He watched her dig through her small bag on the sink, pulling out a container of some kind of powder.

"You're lying," she smirked still not looking at him, brushing on said powder.

"How can you tell, you're not even looking at me." He shot back a half smile forming on its own.

"I can practically _hear_ you clench your jaw."

"Fine," he muttered, "Arthur only said you were feeling neglected. Did you really use the term 'involved'? That hurt my feelings, Aria."

"Well you've hurt mine," she finally shot him a look, and then went back to putting on eyeliner. "I am indeed feeling neglected. I understand the need for professional distance but don't you think we've been seeing each other long enough now that the distance shouldn't matter?"

"It doesn't matter, Ariadne." He frowned, "What matters is getting the job done and I can't do that without your so called 'professional distance'."

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she put away the eyeliner and she looked at him disbelievingly.

"That's just it Dom, you're choosing the job over me. I haven't been this close to you in days; I haven't kissed you in weeks. I miss you even though I see you every day. It's tearing me up when I have to pretend I don't care."

She absentmindedly wiped a finger at both her eyes, trying not to smear the newly applied make-up. Cobb studied her; he felt guilty and it taking all his will to remain where he was. If he went to her now and closed the distance between them, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep himself in check.

"Aria, this is just as hard on me." He whispered, "I'm not choosing the job over you." He smiled a little and let out a chuckle. "You know I can't keep my hands off you. If I kiss you now, I don't think we'll be going anywhere for a while."

That made her smile a little as well.

"After this job, we tell them," she paused and glanced back at the mirror one last time. "And tell them where my tattoo is already. Arthur's already turned purple because of Yusuf's failed attempt."

"Yeah, about Arthur…" he furrowed his brows trying to best express what he was going to say. "As Eames put it, he's apparently still 'smitten' by you."

"What?" She laughed.

"He was very upset when he came out of here last night."

"Oh," her face fell when she realized he was serious. "I'll talk to him- don't give me that look, I doubt it'll smooth over well if you say something."

"I'm still not going to tell them where you tattoo is," he half-smiled. "I'd like to see exactly how they're going to pull off finding it. Maybe you should show a little more skin." He eyed her up and down with a smirk.

"Oh get out!" She laughed, shooing him. "I'll be there in a few minutes. I love you."

"I love you too," he said and went out the door.

* * *

Eames walked into the larger room to see Yusuf already there, sitting at the table and looking over the paper while he idly stirred the liquid in his coffee cup.

"You know that's full of space-filling bullshit right?" He said, flopping into the seat beside him.

"Yes, but the horoscopes and comics make me laugh." Yusuf eyed him and laid the paper down. "You look a bit peeved. Phone number not real?"

Eames shot him a glare and took the paper, flipping it open.

"Oh, it was real," he said cynically, looking over the front page and then flipping to the next.

"Impressive; I was sure she'd give you a fake one." Then Yusuf caught the tone, "If it's real then what's the problem?"

"I had Arthur call it and they practically flirted for ten minutes."

Yusuf rolled his eyes. "That's what you wanted right?"

"Not really," Eames muttered laying the paper back on the table.

Yusuf shook his head and grabbed his cup of hot tea off the table and taking a sip.

"You need to make your mind up Eames. You either want this girl or you don't. If you do, then actually seriously pursuing her won't kill you; if not then let Arthur have a go and see how it works."

"So says the man who spent a month debating on whether or not he should propose to his girlfriend." Eames raised a brow and smirked, "Did she say no? You never told me."

"She said yes thank you very much."

"Congratulations," Eames grinned, "Remind me to tell her that she's dooming herself the next time I see her."

"I'll put that at the top of my to-do list." He replied, taking it in stride. "Seriously, make your mind up. She gave you her number for a reason; don't be a dumbass and ruin it."

Eames didn't say anything; he took the paper, rolled it up and hit Yusuf with it.

"What was that for?" Yusuf yelped.

"Just needed to get it out my system," he grinned, "I'm certain you'll do something later to account for it."

Yusuf glared and snatched the paper back, hitting Eames with it in the same fashion. This started a smacking war which only ended once Cobb and Arthur walked in. They told the two in unison they didn't want to know.

* * *

**So I totally just laid it all out on the table. I was looking for interviews to get into character with them and nearly every single Tom Hardy interview has ****Cillian Murphy ****paired with him. Are they trying to say something? I hope not. Same goes with Joe and Ellen. –sighs- Joe **_**is**_** a cutie though. Those interviews TOTALLY made me bat a round for his team. He's so adorable! Especially when he smiles and laughs. :P =D I mean, look at my new display pic (if it changed… takes forever). I want to be that girl… seriously. I do. That's like super sexy.**

**By the way, Aria is swampophelia's nickname. She made it up, I'm just using it :P**


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Reconciliation

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the HBIC (that would be Michael Caine) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**Warnings:** Some basic flirting and lustful gazes via Dom and Ariadne…

**Author Notes: **Sorry this took so long. School is hectic. I'm supposed to be doing research papers but who really does those on time? :P Not to mention I have baby fever which I am filling via _Gwen Gets a Surprise_ and making Eames learn how to change a diaper was too much fun to pass up (one more chapter till the babies =D). Luckily Gwen knows what she's doing… I think. But yeah… anyways…

_BIG THANK YOU to the Anon who reviewed… I so wish I could reply to you earlier but since it's anon… I'll do it here. Thank you for pointing that out. Descriptions aren't my strong point, mostly because I feel cliché while writing them. Especially human features, mostly because I feel like I'm writing a bad romance novel when I do it. I know no excuses but I'm trying! I hope this chapter is better and please, please, PLEASE, let me know if it's better or worse. I would love you with the intensity of a thousand suns XD. K, bad Fairly Oddparent joke… _

Alright, that said, enjoy =D

* * *

Ariadne held her head high as she marched down the street to the warehouse, ignoring the stares from the people she passed by. Once Cobb left, she realized how frustrated she really was. Therefore, she took the liberty to run late. It wasn't as if she was needed anyways, her layout was finished. In fact, the only reason she was even stopping by the warehouse was to grab her bag she left and see if she could set up a time to talk to Arthur one-on-one.

A whistle was let out from one of the guys she passed and she smirked smugly. Normally she'd be scandalized, however this one time she was actually looking for that effect. Dark skinny jeans, black boots, purple quarter-sleeved V-neck shirt, and black belt around the waist along with her hair down in curls not only made her look good, but she felt it. Actually looking her age helped too, but that was just an added bonus.

When she rounded the corner, she looked around to make sure no one was following her. Once she felt it clear, she slipped through the white, weathered door. Once inside, she climbed the stairs up two flights before reaching the landing of the floor the team was stationed. Taking one last moment to smooth out her shirt and ruffle her hair, she put on her game face and opened the door.

* * *

Cobb glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten and Ariadne still had not arrived as expected. No one else seemed to notice, the others going about business as usual. He, however, was getting worried. Just when he was about to try and call her, the door on the main door opened.

"Hey guys," Ariadne's voice preceded her as she stepped in.

Everyone turned to just glance at her and say hello, however, they all did a double take. Ariadne stared back at them as if she didn't know why they were all saddening gapping at her with slacked jaws. They were all stunned at how _stunning_ she was. No longer donning her usual bland bohemian grabs, she instead wore what could only be described as sexy-chic. Cobb could feel his pulse quicken and he forced himself not to let his thoughts stray.

Eames spoke first and let out a whistle.

"My, my, don't you look exquisite. Going on a, what's it called, hot date?"

Ariadne's cheeks turned pink but she smirked at him, her brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She then laughed, "I came by to get my bag I left, since I'm done with my work for now."

"I told Yusuf you cleaned up well, but he didn't believe me." Eames smirked, making her blush darken slightly from how his eyes sweep over her. "Apparently he thinks you can't be sexy."

Yusuf, who'd been sitting beside him, gave him a shove.

"I did not say that." He muttered, looking embarrassed.

"So you're saying you think she's sexy?" Eames grinned evilly, turning to his friend.

"No! I mean- Eames!" Yusuf stuttered and gave him another shove.

"I'm going to walk away on that note," Ariadne laughed and went down the hall.

The thought of it looking suspicious if he followed after crossed Cobb's mind for one brief second. Once the second passed, he pushed all thoughts from his mind and left the room. He found her with the layout, leaning onto the table in the middle of the room looking over the layout in search for possible mistakes. He waited by the door for her to realize he was there. A moment passed and he finally got a flicker of a glance from her.

"Is there a problem Mr. Cobb," she asked playfully, standing up straight but not leaving the front of the table.

"You," he said after walking toward her and then leaning forward over her but not touching her "are being a tease."

"One could say the same for you," she replied, pretending to ignore how close he was. She glanced back but only turned enough to catch the color of his shirt in her sight. "You know that shirt you're wearing drives me crazy."

"How so?"

She shivered; he'd brushed his fingers through her hair, tossing it to the left. When he spoke, his words danced across the back of her neck.

"Gray… it brings out your eyes." She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. "You are invading my professional distance, Mr. Cobb."

She slipped to the side and out from under him. Her eyes met his and she shivered. He gaze was dark, wanting, and she swore his blue eyes flashed lustfully the longer she stared at them.

"It's rude to undress a lady with your eyes," she said softly, refusing to give up her eye contact.

"Would you rather I do it with my hands?" He smirked and looked her over once more.

"You need to behave," Ariadne grinned and blushed, wagging her finger at him. "I'm going to leave now." She picked up her bag and as she scooted around him and got to the door, she glanced over her shoulder. "Don't miss me too much," she whispered.

He watched her leave and he had to steady himself. That woman was going to be the death of him. Ariadne, feeling her mission accomplished, walked back into the larger room with a grin on her face.

"What are you smiling about?"

She looked to her left to see Arthur, who'd remained quiet when she came in, sitting among his papers at the small table and looking up at her. She hesitated before speaking; wondering what was different about him. He looked different, not his normal high-class business self… he wasn't wearing a vest. Just a dress shirt and tie.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "Hey, do you mind meeting me up later for lunch?"

He gave her a questioning look, but nodded. "That sounds fine."

"Alright, I'll call you or you can call me… best you call me, I don't want to interrupt anything." She smiled and then looked over at Eames and Yusuf, who were discussing something over where she last saw them. "Bye guys!"

She walked out just as they waved her off.

As expected, Arthur called her around one and asked her to meet him at a small Italian mom and pop restaurant only two blocks from the hotel. It was an adorable restaurant in her opinion. The benches that lined the walls on the inside were framed with criss-cross wooden fences and lined with English Ivy. The white walls were donned with black and white photos, presumably the original owner and workers.

Once they were sat in the corner booth and ordered, Arthur glanced at Ariadne and as she expected due to the curious look in his eyes, he asks the question he'd been holding in since this morning.

"So, what's the real reason we're here?"

"What do you mean?" Ariadne tried to play innocent, staring down as she swirled her straw in her drink.

"You have that 'we need to talk' face," he said with a half-smile.

"Alright," she let go of her straw and brought her hand down to her lap, sitting up straight, "Arthur I asked you to meet me up because, well, last night… I didn't think about it until you left but, you seemed so… not yourself."

Arthur laughed, leaning back against the booth. Ariadne gave him a quizzical look; she was not expecting that reaction.

"Eames said something, didn't he?"

"Eames? No, was he supposed too?"

"No… never mind. What makes you think I acted different?" He asked, his smile not fading.

Ariadne went back to fiddling with her straw and sighed.

"Well, it's just…" she looked up and forced herself to make her eyes meet his. "Arthur, when I mentioned that I was seeing someone you looked… hurt."

"I was," he said seriously, which made her stomach flop. "Aria we've been friends for a long time and you always tell me everything. I just felt a little dejected for being left out of the loop."

"That's it?" She blinked and stared at him cautiously. He didn't appear to be lying, but she could never be sure when it came to him.

"Yes, what else could it be?"

"I thought maybe… I thought you might still have feelings for me."

Arthur mulled her words over before responding, "I won't lie… I thought I did and that was partly the cause of my reaction. The more I thought about however, the more I realized it wasn't true. I love you Ariadne, but not like that."

She could feel the weight practically lift off her shoulders. She honestly didn't know how to handle the situation had he said the opposite. She gave him a smile and the waitress brought out their plates, Arthur's being a baked ziti and Ariadne's being fettuccini alfredo with broccoli. With a nod and thank you from the both of them, the waitress walked off.

"So what's his name?" Arthur asked, breaking the silence as he cut at his food.

"Who's name?" She asked, swirling her pasta.

"The guy you're seeing."

Ariadne tried not to let her '_oh shit'_ reaction show outwardly. She had to think fast and give an excuse. Granted, it wouldn't be any easier when she and Cobb finally _did_ tell everyone, still doing it together would be easier than doing it alone.

"Well Arthur, I think it'd be safer for the moment if I didn't discuss that, maybe when the job is over?" she gave an apologetic smile and hoped he'd buy it.

He paused long enough to swallow his food. "You're right, my apologies. Can you at least tell me how long you've been seeing him?"

"Hmm…" She thought about how long she had been seeing him and was surprised when she realized just how long it had been. "A year and a half almost actually."

She took a bit of her pasta and glanced over just in time to see a little touch of sadness in his brown eyes. She quickly chewed and swallowed down what little she had in her mouth and back-tracked.

"Arthur, I… I didn't tell anyone. I'm sorry. I just, I didn't want to mix my job and personal life." She realized once she said it how hypocritical her statement really was.

"No, I understand. I do." He paused for a moment. "Do you love him and aside from the miscommunication, does he treat you right? That's what really matters."

"Yes I do and yes, he does," she said, her cheeks blushing lightly.

"Good," Arthur said firmly, grinning.

Once their lunch was over, Arthur walked her back to the hotel before heading back to the warehouse.

"Oh, when you get back tonight, I have a book I want you to read," Ariadne said before walking into the hotel. "I'll bring it to you, just text me when you get back."

"Alright, I will."

He gave her a quick hug and they parted ways, both of them feeling much better having talked out the issues. Now all Arthur had to worry about was Eames teasing him for going to lunch with Ariadne. That was going to be fun.

* * *

**Lame ending I know… but I'm so glad this is out! Woot! So, next chapter REVEAL! =D I know what you're thinkin 'bout damn time'! but yea… sorry this took soooooo long! Oh Unbetaed... **

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** And The Winner Is…

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**Warnings:** Insane reactions… maybe?

**Author Notes: **I am _**SO SORRY**_ this took so long. School and work took over but now schools out, whoo! lol… and that I got side tracked with character building. This is the chapter everyone has been waiting on.

I want to thank EVERYONE who stuck through this (even those AA shippers who kept with me DISPITE my DAri tendencies… you guys get love and a ton of cookies) and put up with my story (esp Roxie. I know OC's aren't generally welcome but characters are the REAL HBIC's because they take over and rule and won't let you sleep until you get them out on paper… but yea). I hope that this chapter is up to the Original Prompter's standards.

I'm thinking of an epilogue if people want it. It'd be mostly to wrap up loose ends and characters (coughroxiecough). If I do, I think I'll put in Yusuf's wedding. Just sayin, Yusuf needs some love.

Speaking of Yusuf check out this BAD ASS PIC of Yusuf as the HBIC (ignore the first pic of Cobb/Arthur… if you're not into that *I personally think it's a smexy pic XD*):

http: / / community .livejournal .com/ lubsstorage /8708 .html ?view =69636

And the BAD ASS story that goes with it where he kicks all kind of Malasaur (AKA crazy Mal) ass:

http:/ / starkraves .livejournal .com/ 10887 .html ?view =262023 #t262023

Just close the spaces =)

* * *

As promised, Arthur sent her a text but only once he got to his room and tidied up. The thought that he didn't really need to do so crossed his mind but only after he was half done. Even after all this time, he couldn't _fathom _Ariadne seeing his space unkempt. He realized once he was done and the message sent that Eames was the only one who'd seen him and his space disheveled. Only because the git picked locks and lacked understanding of personal space of course, he thought bitterly.

Once he finished, he settled into reviewing papers at his desk, more so out of boredom than preparation when he heard a knock at the door. Straightening his black t-shirt (which he'd changed into along with jeans) he answered the door to find Ariadne standing there.

"I see you've been relaxing," he said with a half-smile.

She rolled her eyes but glanced down at herself. She'd changed into a fitted red t-shirt and light gray sweatpants. He eyed the book in her hand as he stepped aside to let her in.

"Do you blame me? Looks like you had the same idea."

"A rarity I assure you."

Ariadne smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Here's the book," she held it out to him and he took it, glancing over the cover, "I promise that despite its spoofyness, it's an intellectual read."

He glanced up at her and back down at the book again. It was a white paperback with what looked to be a devil in a suit and sunglasses lounging with a glass of wine just above the book title _Good Omens._

"I'll take your word for it," he said skeptically, tossing the book on his bed.

"It makes fun of _The Omen_ I promise you'll love it."

"As I said I'll take your word for it."

"Whatever," she laughed, "Just promise me once this job is over, you'll read it."

"You have my word, my lady." He replied with a dramatic bow.

"You're such a goof." She laughed, "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going to lock myself in my room and relax."

"Good night." He said as he straightened up and she gave him a wave.

Then as she turned and headed out the door he saw it in the last place he expected to see it. His eyes widened in shock. Right there between where her shirt had rolled up slightly and her sweat pants started in the small of her back in bold black ink was a tattoo. No, Arthur thought, _the_ tattoo.

He waited a moment after she'd shut the door before he quickly ran and opened it, peering down the hall. She was nowhere to be found. Elated, he sprinted several doors to the right and bang on the door.

"Eames! Eames, open the door!" Arthur said in a cheerful tone.

He heard mumblings and stepped back as Eames opened the door still in his khakis but with his (hideous in Arthur's opinion) paisley shirt open and scowl on his face.

"What do you want Arthur?"

"I saw it!" Arthur grinned.

Now Eames was confused. "Saw what?"

Arthur glanced to his left, "Let me tell you inside just in case."

Rolling his eyes Eames stepped aside, letting the Point Man in and shutting the door behind them.

"Dear lord Eames and you call _me_ a cootie queen?" Arthur wrinkled his nose at how Eames had just scattered his belongs about the room, clothes included.

"At least I'm not a lint licker," He smirked back, buttoning his shirt closed. "What did you see?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and grinned.

"Ariadne's tattoo."

"WHAT?" Eames yelled looking up in shock. He abandoned his shirt buttons, three of which remained unfastened. "Where was it? What is it? How did you find it?"

"She came by to give me a book and there is was."

Eames rolled his eyes and shoved Arthur's shoulder impatiently. "Where, Arthur, where?"

"I'm a little disappointed to say that it was in the small of her back." He frowned.

"A tramp stamp! I knew it!" Eames grinned, jerking his arm back in triumph that he was right for once. Then he gave Arthur a sly look. "Exactly how did you see the small of our little Aria's back, hmm?"

"When she left, her shirt had rolled up and with her pants being folded once, it allowed the skin to show," he replied methodically without a hint of embarrassment.

"Ah so what was it?" Eames said giddily, ignoring the disappointment from not embarrassing Arthur. "It was her name wasn't it? I always figured her to be an in the closet minx."

"Actually it was Latin." Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. "Transgressus-stella amanti; it was in black and in cursive. It was actually rather… classy for a tattoo."

"Arthur, there is nothing classy about a tattoo," Eames chuckled. "I should know; I have them. But I barely speak French, let alone Mafia. What the hell does Transdresser stella onaman mean?"

"It's Transgressus-stella amanti. If I remember correctly," Arthur thought hard for a moment, "It translates roughly into 'a star-crossed lover'."

Eames raised a brow and then laughed. "Seriously? She knows Romeo and Juliet offed each other in the end, right? If she wants to be a star-crossed lover she's going to have to go on suicide watch."

"A little late for that don't you think, seeing as she's had it since she was eighteen?"

"Point taken," Eames paused and smirked, "We have to go tell the others, come on."

Arthur let out a noise when Eames grabbed his arm, dragging him out the room and down the hall. By the time they reached Cobb's door, Arthur had finally freed himself.

"A little warning next time," he grumbled as Eames knocked enthusiastically on the door.

"Cobb!" He called, knocking again. "Open the door it's important."

After some muffled words from the other side of the door, Cobb opened it enough to half step out with his cellphone to his ear.

"Yes it's them, alright," Cobb shoved the phone at Arthur. "Phillipa and James want to say hi."

Arthur took and a chorus of "Hi Uncle Arthur!" could be heard through the speakers.

"What I don't get hello Uncle Eames?" Eames asked, pretending to be offended.

"Of course I know when your birthday is James, five? Already? Of course I will. Hopefully soon. In fact, that reminds me that I have something _very_ special for you. No Phillipa it's not a pony. I don't think your father would appreciate me giving you a pony. Here, say hi to Eames before he cries."

Arthur handed the phone to Eames (who sent him a glare) and once again hellos could be heard loudly.

"Don't listen to Arthur; he's just a stick in the mud- ow." Eames yelped when Arthur hit him firmly on the shoulder. "Yes I'm alright. Are you behaving? You did? You hear that Arthur, Phillipa made me a painting." Eames teased, pulling the phone back for a second. "Yes I'll be there for your birthday. In fact, I believe you're old enough to make spitballs now. Well you see, you take a piece of paper and-"

"Eames," Cobb gave him a squinted glare.

"Sorry Jamie but it seems we'll have to carry this conversation on later. I love you too, pups." Eames handed the phone back to Cobb who was still giving him a disapproving glare.

"It's officially passed your bed time. I'll be back in a few more days, I promise. I'm not sure. Look, we'll talk about it tomorrow okay? I love you."

Cobb lowered the phone from his ear and placed in his pocket once making sure the call had ended. He then gave Eames and Arthur his 'what do you want' look. Eames cleared his throat and clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"You'll never guess what Arthur found." He grinned.

"Do I want to know?" Cobb asked, raising a brow.

"Eames do I really have to-"

"Yes."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed with an almost pained expression. "I saw Ariadne's tattoo."

"Don't let him fool you Cobb, he was all grin when he told me."

Cobb leaned back against the door with a small smirk. "Well, what is it?"

"A 'tramp stamp'," Arthur sighed with air quotes. "Loopy Latin words in black ink that roughly translate into 'a star-crossed lover.'"

"She knows Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy before it was a romance, right?" Cobb asked smartly.

"I said the same thing," Eames grinned.

"Actually you said-"

"Don't worry about that, come on let's go tell Yusuf!" Eames cut Arthur off, grabbing him by the hand again. "Night Cobb!"

They left Cobb shaking his head and rolling his eyes as they (or rather Eames) tramped up the stairs at the end of the hall.

"Will you stop dragging me," Arthur hissed, wiggling free once they got to the landing of the next floor up.

"If you'd keep up I wouldn't drag you."

Eames jogged over to the third door on the right and knocked. When there was no answer, he knocked again. Huffing, Eames knelt down and started fiddling with door.

"Eames… what are you doing?" Arthur asked cautiously as he approached him.

"I'm molesting the door knob, what does it look like I'm doing?" Eames scoffed shooting a glance up at the Point Man.

"You could just call him." Arthur said blandly, snatching what looked like a screwdriver from Eames. "I'm not even going to ask where you got this."

"Good because I honestly don't remember if I borrowed that one or if I outright stole it."

Eames grinned, standing up and Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, handing the tool back to him.

"Thank you," Eames chuckled.

Arthur muttered something about Forgers while Eames put the tool away and fished for his phone. He found it and pressed the speed dial. For extra measure, he pressed one ear against the door during the first ring. He was a little disappointed to hear nothing. On the fourth ring, Yusuf finally picked up.

"Where are you?" Eames asked before Yusuf could get out a greeting.

"_In the warehouse, Eames; where else would I be?"_

"I don't know Yusuf," he retorted sarcastically, "maybe in their hotel room like every other human being at this hour?"

"_What time __is__ it? You know as well as I do I don't pay attention to the clock."_

"That's because you're a bloody robot." Eames muttered.

"He's at the warehouse still, isn't he?" Arthur asked amused.

"No he's at the bat cave."

"_I wish; I swear if you guys didn't pay me so much I'd tell you to come to me instead of shipping myself here."_

"I said bat cave, you ding-bat not sleep cave." Eames rolled his eyes but chuckled a little when Arthur laughed. "Look, Artie found something you'd be interested in."

He held the phone out and Arthur took it, not bothering to argue.

"I found her tattoo."

"_Where was it?" _Yusuf said loudly, causing Arthur to jerk the phone back. He swore he heard the crashing of glass.

"Her back; tramp style."

"_I knew it, I knew it! I told you so!"_ he said happily. "_What was it?"_

"Latin; star crossed lover when roughly translated."

"_She knows Romeo and-"_

"I'm sure she does," Arthur rolled his eyes. That was getting old.

"_How did you find it?"_

Before Arthur could answer, Eames snatched the phone back.

"Why he got her naked and they romped in the sheets. Can't you hear the difference from stick-up-the-ass Arthur and the new shagged Arthur?"

"I did not sleep with Ariadne," Arthur said loudly getting as close to the phone as he could with Eames nudging him away.

"Well we won't keep you, night!"

Eames shut the phone and laughed when Arthur hit him on the shoulder. Eames ran ahead back to the stairs and Arthur gave him another shove when he caught up with him.

"You're such a bastard."

"You know you love me." Eames winked.

"So," Arthur asked as the went down the stairs, "Are we going to tell her-"

"No!" Eames cut him off. "She'd kill us."

"True."

Bidding each other good night, they went back to their rooms leaving the hall quiet. After about a minute, Ariadne slipped out of her room and went to Cobb's door. She knocked once and let herself in.

"Well, did it work?" She asked walking in.

Cobb was on his bed with photos laid out on the comforter. He glanced up at her and went back to picking through the photos.

"You should have seen Arthur and Eames' faces," Cobb said with a smile. "But you cheated."

"I didn't cheat," Ariadne said, sitting down beside him.

"Your tramp stamp is _not_ the one you got on your eighteenth birthday."

"Twenty-first birthday counts just as well."

Cobb turned and gave her playful look. "Technically it doesn't."

"I'm not stripping for Arthur, Dom. Even if I would, you couldn't watch. Sorry to burst your voyeuristic-like fantasy bubble." She laughed picking up one of the photos which happened to be of their current mark.

He rolled his eyes. "You have to admit it'd be amusing to watch his reaction to the 'Lucky You' just above your-"

"Oh he'd have a heart attack the second I'd go to shimmy my undies off." She laughed and waved her hand as if dismissing the thought. "He'd be dead before noticing that tattoo."

"We could always revive him." Cobb baited.

"Yea, no, I don't think so. I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late."

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She pulled back and was off the bed before Cobb could even think about grabbing her and keeping her there. She left and made her way back to her room. She kept telling herself just a few more days and the job would be over. She hoped she could wait that long.

* * *

**Whoo! Arthur For the win! OMG I'm so glad this is (slightly) over. Like I said, if you want an epilogue let me know. It could be like a Christmas/Hanukah/Holiday present =) Thanks again for putting up with me and my fic! Hope you enjoyed! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: **The Tattoo

**Chapter:** Epilogue

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**Warning: **There is language, crude humor, and pot references. Yes I said pot. I blame the actor who portrays the character; he's a smoker so… yea. Oh and I made up the city… I didn't want to get any facts wrong so I got creative =D

**A/N:** Urgh, I'm sick as a dog right now. Got the FLU from CAMPUS because my TEACHERS went to work sick T_T. –sighs- This was sooooo tough for me to write you just don't KNOW! Weddings… eh. Anyway.

Thank you **EVERYONE** for making this the **MOST REVIEWED** story I've ever written. It's either that good or you guys kept reading hoping it _would_ get that good. If it's the latter I'm terribly sorry for your loss.

**This is for Cindy**

**Your life ended too soon. I miss you dear, even if we weren't as close as we once were. You didn't deserve the closing act you were dealt. **

**Rest in peace love.**

**

* * *

**

Yusuf was pacing the bare room in the back of the church- cathedral rather- waiting anxiously for the person he was trying to reach to pick up the phone. Eames was leaning against the door watching his friend in mild amusement. After three rings Arthur, who Eames could not get a hold of thus making Yusuf give it a try, answered the phone.

"Arthur where are you?" Yusuf hissed. "The airport! What were you doing at the airport, the wedding starts in fifteen minutes! I am going to worry about it, if Nadia finds out- Yes, well your skin, not mine."

Huffing and frustrated, he shoved the cell phone to Eames.

"What the hell is Arthur doing at the airport?" Eames asked with a raised brow, turning the phone off and placing it next to his own in the duffle bag by the door. "I thought Cécile couldn't make it?"

"I am not going to worry about it." Yusuf threw his hands up. "If he's late then that's his problem. This is why we decided not to go with extra groomsmen and bride's maids. I am a little surprised though that it's Arthur and not you."

"That's because I know the wrath of Nadia." Eames chuckled. "I like my nether-regions intact thank you."

Yusuf tried to smile; it didn't work well. "Eames, go and make sure everything is going smoothly. I'm going to step out; I need some fresh air." He said adjusted his black suit and tie nervously.

Eames nodded and they stepped out of the small room in Ville des Fleurs' Cathedral. He'd used the money from the Chicago Job nearly a year ago to book it. Eames went right, heading down the short hall to turn the corner. Yusuf went left and out the door at the end which lead into the parking lot. He shouldn't be nervous; he'd waited for this day what seemed like forever. Still, he couldn't wait for the wedding to be over. Taking in the crisp mid-morning air, he idly watched more cars pull up. Most were relatives of Nadia; Yusuf did have much family that he spoke with. The only family he saw anymore was his grandfather on his mother's side, his parents, his middle sister, her husband and children, and his brother's teenage son.

Looking up at he noticed it was a gorgeous day; not a cloud in the sky. It wasn't his first choice but it was Nadia's hometown, Ville des Fleurs. The second he found out it had been her childhood dream to be married in a Cathedral, he booked it. It took the whole share to do it, but once Saito's name was tossed in, it was a closed deal. He never realized how big her family was until now as he watched them walk in. He smiled; he always wanted to be a part of a big family.

He glanced down at his watch and saw there were five minutes to spare. He turned to open the door when a familiar squeal of tires stopped him. He frowned and knitted his brows together looking over his shoulder. As he suspected it was Arthur's car, a black Audi R8. Only Arthur would pull in like a bat out of hell with one of the most expensive cars Yusuf knew of. Eames always joked it was to compensate for something. Making his way over across the parking lot, he watched Arthur step out of the car.

"What the hell Arthur?" Yusuf glared when he got close, "What was at the airport that was so important?"

Arthur smirked; he adjusted his shades and smoothed his dark green tie. He took one last puff off the nearly finished cigarette he held in his hand before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it.

"I had to pick up the bartender." He exhaled; the smoke swirling away from him.

"The bartender?" Yusuf asked in confusion. "We already have-"

He was cut off by a female voice after hearing the passenger-side door open.

"Arthur, I think your car gave me a hard-on… and I'm not even a guy! Dear lord, you _have _to let me drive it! At least let me _sit_ in the driver's seat. Please? I'm serious. I want to take this baby to bed and do dirty things to it."

Yusuf's mouth dropped a little when the woman finally appeared and shut the door. While he'd never met her personally, he knew who she was. He glanced over at Arthur with wide eyes as the red-head in a fitted burgundy dress walked up to them, still staring at the car. Arthur just smirked, seemingly pleased with himself. Yusuf managed to mouth 'what is she doing here?' before she turned to face them.

"Arthur, did you hear me? I want to rape your car." She said blandly, her hand on her hips looking at Arthur for a reaction.

"Roxie, this is Yusuf, the groom," Arthur replied instead, motioning over to him.

"Oh hey!" She beamed turning to him. "Congratulations! This place is gorgeous! The scenery and the buildings… I've never been out of the States before. I'm so glad Arthur invited me; I can't speak a lick of French, so it's good to be around someone who can."

She seemed nervous, which Yusuf reasoned was why she rambled. There was a bit of twang to her words which he surprised him but then he remembered Eames mentioning something about her being from Carolina. However, he didn't say anything. He only politely nodded and forced a smile. On the inside, he wanted to choke Arthur.

"Roxie, why don't go inside and get us a seat?" Arthur smiled.

She nodded and hummed a tune Yusuf didn't recognize while she walked to the entrance. The two men watched her, listening to her heels click on the concrete before finally disappearing inside.

"Are you _insane?_" Yusuf yelled. "Does she even know he's here?"

"No, I've been cleared by five psychiatrists thank you," Arthur smiled, "and no, she doesn't know he's here."

"If Eames sees her-"

"Stop worrying," Arthur retorted calmly, "It'll be fine. The worst that could happen is Eames runs away like the poultry he is. It's not like there's bad blood between them. You can't have bad blood when he was too wussy to even try something with her in the first place."

Yusuf studied his friend for a moment. Then the wind blew and Yusuf smelt something faint but familiar and it was not Arthur's cologne.

"You're high aren't you?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Just a little." Arthur admitted in the same nonchalant manner.

Yusuf could not believe this. Of all the days Arthur decided to pursue his occasional bad habit, it had to be his wedding day.

"How little is a little?"

Yusuf started toward the door getting Arthur to follow. They had one minute left and he needed to get to the alter ASAP.

"Enough that I will not be able to make eye contact with anyone for at least the next hour." Arthur said slightly guilty.

"Why are you high?" Yusuf sighed before opening the door. "I thought you stopped doing that a long time ago."

"Cécile called me this morning," Arthur whispered once inside. "She thinks she's pregnant."

Yusuf blinked. "And you felt the need to celebrate?"

Arthur took off his shades and glared at the floor.

"I had a panic attack; it was the only way I could recompose myself. Anxiety pills are not friendly to me."

"Just go sit down," Yusuf huffed then whispered, "You better be detoxed before this is over."

Arthur muttered something that sounded akin to a curse before walking over to where Roxie was sitting, staring intently at her nails. Yusuf regarded his friend before just shaking his head and walking away. He didn't have time to worry over trivial things such as Arthur's lack of sobriety.

"Why was Arthur wearing sunglasses inside?" Eames whispered as Yusuf took his place next to him.

"He's wearing sunglasses because he's higher than this ceiling." He whispered back.

Eames bit his lip to keep from laughing. He'd seen Arthur high twice, one when he too was a little out of it and once when he was clear minded. Both times, Arthur was _interesting_ to say the least. Once this ceremony was over, Eames was going to make sure Arthur did not live this down.

* * *

Ariadne only glanced back once Yusuf passed by them out of habit. When she saw Arthur, she did a double take. She started to wave him over, to get him to sit with her and Dom however she stopped herself when she watched him sit by a redheaded woman whose face she could not see.

Once Arthur began to lean close to her as if to whisper Ariadne's curiosity got the better of her. She turned on the bench seat and sat on her knees. While she should have worried about wrinkling her blue dress, she placed finding the answer as more important. Even leaning forward and ignoring the couple behind them who seemed uncomfortable with Ariande's sudden invasion of their space did not yield any recognition of the woman next to Arthur.

"Dom," Ariadne patted Dom's shoulder, not taking her eyes off them, "who is that with Arthur?"

Dom, who had got lost in his own thoughts staring at the support columns in the building, blinked and looked back to where Ariadne was looking. It took him a second to find Arthur, who was several rows back.

"What are you talking about?" Dom turned where he sat to put less strain on his neck.

"That woman in red dress; that is _not_ Cécile," she pursed her lips and glared forward.

"Aria, I don't think that woman is who you think she might be. Arthur's not stupid or careless."

"He _is_ seeing someone else?" She said in a high pitch, staring at her fiancé with wide eyes.

"No Aria, he's not. Now stop being so nosy." he chuckled.

"I've seen her before," she pouted, returning to the proper position in her seat. "She looks familiar that's all. I am not nosy." She added with a sideways glare.

"Yes you are, now hush the wedding is starting." He grinned and she sent him another glare.

"When we get married, remind me to set seating arrangements." Dom raised his brow and she shrugged and said: "Excuse me but I want to know who all shows up and not left to ponder until it's over."

Dom did his best to hide his eye roll.

* * *

"I am going to murder you." Roxie whispered, keeping her head down.

"What would you do that for?"

She couldn't see his face but she could hear the smug smile in his words. It all fell into place now. The name Yusuf sounded familiar and when she met him, he looked familiar. Then she saw _him_ standing up front looking at his watch. Panicking, she took the first seat she came to and hid her face, praying he wouldn't see her.

"I can't believe you!" She was embarrassed and doing her best not to get upset. "You _knew_ he would be here and you had the audacity to bring me along under the guise of a lack of a date."

"That's not true," he whispered, leaning against her. "I _was _lacking a date. Sure I knew he'd be here but I didn't think it would be a big deal."

"Big deal my-" she stopped herself; half realizing she was in a church and half from the music cutting her off.

Sitting upright and meeting Arthur's gaze, she noticed the odd look in his eyes. He casually winked at her and turned to watch the bridesmaid make her way down the aisle. She frowned; Arthur was more relaxed than usual. The thought however, was forced into the back of her mind when the music changed and it came time to stand.

* * *

yusuf was not one to get butterflies. He was ration and calculative of every move he made. The closest thing to butterflies he ever had was when an experiment pulled through. Even then it was more triumph than anticipation. Still, waiting for Nadia to step through the door sent Yusuf's dormant butterflies whirling.

He tried to remember to breathe while he watched the Maid of Honor, Nadia's best friend Julie walked towards them. Then following her was his six-year-old niece came through the door, tossing about petals in a very deliberate manner. Yusuf smiled; he remembered when they asked her to be the flower girl and if she knew how. Little Rowa grinned and replied, "Of course I do, I saw it on _Rugrats_."

When the music changed and everyone sitting stood up, he stopped breathing.

Saying she was beautiful with her black hair in up in curls away from her face to show off her hazel eyes, and wearing a simple white, capped-sleeve dress was an understatement. She was a vision one couldn't create even in a dream.

The next minutes that past felt like eternity. He used all his energy to focus on the task at hand and not stumble over his words. When the question was purposed if anyone would like to protest this marriage, Eames coughed loudly. Yusuf turned and glared at him.

"What?" He said, not hiding his grin. "Is it illegal to cough now?"

Small laughter rippled through the room, including Eames'. Yusuf rolled his eyes and turned back to Nadia, who was smiling in amusement.

"By the power vested in me," the priest said once the laughter died down. "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Yusuf grinned and leaned forward to give Nadia a kiss while everyone cheered them on.

* * *

"I'm leaving," Roxie whispered ducking behind Arthur as Eames walked by.

"And where are you going to go?" He grinned. "You're plane doesn't leave till tomorrow."

"I'll walk." She huffed.

"On the water?"

"I hate you," she huffed again.

When Yusuf, his new wife, Eames and whoever the bridesmaid exited, the congregation was able to move freely. Despite her threats of leaving, Roxie stayed close by his side as they walked out.

"Standing behind me doesn't make you invisible." He whispered with a chuckle.

"We can pretend," She muttered back.

The reception was held in a large banquet like hall next to the cathedral. It was decorated lavishly, like a scene out of a fairy tale. The tables were covered with white cloth, a strip of either blue or silver running down the middle. The chairs were the same; if the table was layered with a silver strip, a blue bow accented the chairs and vice versa. In the center of the tables held white lilies and blue irises in vases.

Accenting greenery and flowers lined the walls. The star lights woven through them gave the room a nice glow. In the front, before the medium sized dance floor, was the head table. Next to it was a smaller table that held the cake. White frosting with three layers, the outside design was of lilacs and vines in the deep blue of the wedding scheme. Atop the cake was a silver statue of two hearts intertwined.

Yusuf was extremely pleased with himself; he did the whole layout as a surprise for Nadia. She immediately told him she was impressed and loved it.

"I didn't think you had it in you," she whispered as they waited to be announced in.

"Should I be worried my wife has little faith in me?"

"We both know you have the decorating skills of a blind man. I still love you," she giggled and kissed him on the cheek.

Before he could try and discuss the topic any further, they're name (which gave him butterflies again) was called. Things went smoothly once the clapping died down and they took their seats. He and his wife (butterflies again) were impressed with Eames. Yusuf was waiting for the bad jokes, however they didn't come. Eames gave a very nice and very heartwarming speech.

"I don't think you've had enough wine yet Eames," Yusuf chuckled right before Eames made a toast.

"What on earth would make you say that?"

"You talked," Nadia added, "without slurs, slanders, or slips."

"Just so you're aware, I'm horribly offended."

Everyone laughed and Eames coughed loudly.

"To the happy couple," he said raising his glass in the air. "May you grow more sickeningly sweet for the rest of your life."

"That's the Eames I know." Yusuf grinned.

Time flew by after that.

They cut the cake, managing not to smash it into each other's faces despite some peanut gallery calling via Eames. By the time their first dance came around, his butterflies were working full speed. Yusuf could not dance to save his life. He took lessons with Nadia but he still managed to step on her feet every time during rehearsals. As the music played, Yusuf focused mentally on his feet and what they happened to be doing. While there were a few close calls, he let out a sigh of relief once the song ended.

The tossing of flowers and garter were held last. One of Nadia's cousins caught the bouquet; her one cousin who _didn't_ want to ever get married. Eames caught the garter. It was rather comical; Eames was not paying attention at all. He was looking off with great concentration to his right when it flew at him, hitting him on the forehead. Of course, his instinct kicked in and he grabbed it before it could tumble to the ground.

Not long after, Yusuf and Nadia made a quick round through the crowd. They said hello and accepted congratulations from everyone. Together they made an even shorter round about again to make sure they'd said goodbye to everyone. Yusuf sunk her and himself out the back afterwards. He was not one for big crowds for extended periods of time. Besides, they had a whole week to themselves they needed to be heading to.

* * *

"That sneaky- He's already left!" Eames said dramatically to Cobb.

He'd found Cobb and Ariadne a few moments ago after they just finished a dance. He'd just come back inside after searching frantically for Yusuf's car which Eames decided needed trashing. He was disappointed greatly when he realized it was missing from the parking lot.

"Can you blame him?"

"Oh come on, a little rice throwing never killed anyone." He pouted, "And I didn't get to decorate his car."

"I imagine he'd murder you," Ariadne added, taking a sip from her drink she'd fetched from the bar.

"That's what you're supposed to do at weddings!"

"If you trash my car at my wedding," Ariadne gave Eames a warning look, "you will die."

"I'll make a mental note to make a mental note later." Eames paused for a moment. "Where's Arthur? I have some teasing to do."

Ariadne and Cobb watched Eames sulk off into the small crowd. Once he was out of sight, Ariadne still stared off into where he disappeared, thinking hard. After a moment, Ariadne told Cobb to go check on him.

"Something's off about him," she whispered.

"I'm sure he's fine."

"Please?" She asked, glancing up and batting her eyes.

"I'm sure he's fine." Cobb repeated.

They stared at each other, on waiting for the other to give. Cobb caved first.

"Alright," he grumbled and headed off in the direction Eames left.

"I love you!" Ariadne called with a grin.

Once Cobb was out of sight, she looked for a place to sit. There was no point in standing still when one was alone. She wandered about a few feet before spotting an empty table she liked. She sat her drink down and was about to pull out a chair when she heard her name called. She looked up to see Arthur and the unknown redhead walking toward her. She stared at the woman; she knew that face.

"Don't you clean up nicely," Arthur grinned, giving Ariadne a quick hug.

Despite herself, she blushed and glanced down at the baby blue one-shoulder she was wearing.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she winked in an attempt to regain composure. "Who's your friend?" she continued, looking up at the woman beside him.

"Roxie," she smiled, "I worked at the bar in Chicago. Mr. Eames brought you along with him one night."

"Oh I remember you now." Ariadne said, the light coming on. "It's good to see you." She then turned to Arthur and glanced back at Roxie, "So how did you two…"

"Ran into her in New York of all places," he said. "Four months ago."

"I was there on a five week research trip. We bumped into each other," she laughed. "I guess we just happened to be at the right place at the right time. We've kept in contact since."

Roxie smiled and glanced out into the crowd; then her smile faltered and she excused herself. Ariadne and Arthur watched her walk hurriedly away, rounding a corner into the closest hallway. They found out the reason for her quick departure when Eames came up to them.

"That was her, wasn't it? Roxie," Eames stared intently at Arthur. "What is she doing here?"

"She's my date, that a problem?" He replied. Then his phone rang and fishing it out of his pant pocket, he glanced at the number. Arthur's face fell slightly. "I have to take this," he said excusing himself.

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" Eames turned to Ariadne.

"Not sure," she looked around the room, "this place is pretty big."

Eames ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't believe Arthur did that, the prick."

"Did what?"

"Brought her here," he snapped. "I have half a mind to-"

"This is Yusuf's wedding, he doesn't need a scene even if he isn't here," she hissed. "Besides you don't even know her! Tell me one thing about her besides the fact she's pretty and you wanted to sleep with her when we were in Chicago."

Eames studied Ariadne sadly for a moment. She felt bad for calling him out but the truth hurt sometimes. Just when she thought the conversation over, he sighed softly.

"Her first name is Elizabeth; she finds it boring so she goes by Roxie. Nothing short of torture will get her to admit she likes country music." He paused and looked away sheepishly. "And eight months ago a real snotty, egotistical, bleeding sod skipped town because he got chicken shit when she told him she loved him."

To say Ariadne was dumbfounded would have been an understatement. She glanced back to get her drink but forgot where she put it exactly. Tsking at the loss of perfectly good champagne, she turned her attention back to Eames.

"How long were you together?" she whispered.

"Four months, more or less," he said. "After the job I left for about a week and went back. Don't tell Cobb. You know how he likes to be the only one that breaks his rules."

Ariadne smiled a little. "Maybe you should go talk to her. She went around that corner." Ariadne pointed to the hallway she saw the redhead disappear into.

"I don't think she wants to talk to me." Eames replied faintly, as if more to himself than to her.

"Just go." Ariadne shoved him. "You can only fail so many times."

Eames grinned broadly. "You do realize that night you spelled fail f-i-a-l?"

Ariadne turned pink. "I try to forget."

Eames chuckled, "I won't tell if you won't."

Then with a quick kiss to her forehead, Eames went off to the hall. Ariadne watched him walk hurriedly, shaking her head in amusement.

* * *

Arthur was not a drinker. He found alcohol vile, the burning it caused his throat worse than any cigarette smoke and its after effects more debilitating than any high he's ever been on. However, after the conversation he just had, drinking was the closest thing he could drown his thoughts with.

"Arthur? Where have you been?" Cobb abandoned his search for Eames after circling around twice. Then he spotted Arthur sitting at a table in the far corner. "Are you alright? You look ill."

Cobb had known Arthur for a very long time. Arthur was always the picture of composure but now he looked a distraught mess. His hair was sticking up in odd places, as if he'd run his hand through it too many times. His tie was tugged loose and his vest was crumpled in the chair next to him.

"I feel ill." Arthur muttered.

He then downed the last of shots he'd collected and sat in front of him. Cobb took a seat beside him and studied his friend. Arthur didn't seem to mind when Cobb picked up one of the empty glasses to get a look at just what he was trying to drown himself in.

"Arthur you look awful!"

Cobb and Arthur glanced over to see Ariadne, a new drink in hand, make her way over to them. She marched right to Arthur's side, placing her small hand over Arthur's forehead to feel for a fever. She was a little stunned when Arthur took the glass out of her other hand and drank the rest of her champagne with one swing.

"You're drunk." Ariadne put her hands on her hips, staring fiercely at him.

"I'm trying." Arthur replied.

"Why are you trying to get shit-faced?" Cobb asked pointedly.

"Why am I trying to get shit-faced," Arthur looked at him wide-eyed. "I don't know, why do you think I'm trying to get shit-faced?"

"No need for sarcasm." Ariadne scolded. "Arthur what is wrong with you?"

"Cécile called me," he said still wide-eyed but staring at nothing. "She, um, went to the- the doctor."

"Is she okay?" Ariadne asked.

"Yeah."

"Then what 's the problem?" Cobb leaned on the table and studied his friend with furrowed brows.

"Well-"

"There you are!"

They all turned to see Roxie walking toward them grinning. Eames was not too far behind her, seeming just as pleased with himself. Ariadne shot them a knowing smile.

"Arthur you look like shit." Eames chuckled. He stopped when Arthur scoffed.

"Arthur you lightweight," Roxie replied and walked over to look at the glasses. "You're going to have a nasty hangover tomorrow. Does this mean I can drive you home? Oh please let me!" They all stared at her sudden change of tone. "Sorry."

"If you want too," Arthur shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Who put the rain cloud on your head?" Eames asked.

"Cécile. She went to the doctor today."

"Is she alright?"

"No."

Arthur placed his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands. He muttered something intelligible.

"You're going to need to speak up a little louder; we don't have super dog hearing." Eames said.

He lifted his head and stared off in annoying disbelief. "She's pregnant. She's pregnant. I'm going to be a father. A father! I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to be a father!" With a huff, he buried his head back in his hands.

There was stunned silence. A moment after everyone glanced uncomfortably at each other, not knowing how to approach Arthur without offending him, Roxie grinned.

"Artie!" She said hugging him fiercely. "This is so awesome! Can I be the aunt? I've always wanted a niece or nephew. This is exciting! Stop pouting like a five year old."

"Well, he's taking it a lot better than I did." Cobb shrugged.

"What does that mean?" Ariadne looked at him sharply.

"When Mal got pregnant with Phillipa and told us," Eames grinned, "Cobb paced around the ware house for two hours muttering to himself and tossing the-" Eames stopped short of saying totem. "Baseball back and forth in his hands. It was quite amusing."

"Will you let me go I can't breathe" Arthur shoved at Roxie.

"Sorry," she bit her lip and let him go. "We should celebrate."

"Arthur already did that with a before _and_ after party," Eames smirked.

"Funny, Eames. Funny." Arthur glared.

"Seriously, worst case scenario," Roxie sat down in a chair she pulled from the table beside them. "She's pregnant with twins."

"Don't say that." Arthur said miserably.

"Or triplets," Eames smirked.

"Or quadruplets."

"Or they'll be deformed."

"Or-"

"Will you two stop?" Ariadne glared, stomping over to rub Arthur, who looked pale, on the back. "You're just alike, it's scary."

Roxie blushed and Eames beamed.

"I think," Cobb said standing up, "that we need to get Arthur home before he goes into alcohol poisoning."

"Can I drive?"

"_I'll _drive." Cobb withheld a smile from the mock that Roxie gave him after shooting her down. "You can follow behind me."

Everyone got to their feet (Arthur with help from Cobb) and made their way through the small maze of tables. Ariadne was already out the door, Cobb and Arthur not too far behind her.

"I think we'll stay a little longer." Eames announced, "A certain someone owes me a dance."

"Oh dear god, please don't make me." Roxie was the epitome of mortified. "You know I can't dance."

"That's a lie." Arthur slurred. "You danced pretty well earlier."

"You dance with him but you won't dance with me?" Eames pretended to be offended.

She groaned. "Arthur, it only appeared that way because you side-stepped my feet as they tried to crash on your toes."

"Can it wait?" Cobb asked, looking directly at Eames. "Ariadne isn't exactly the sober one either."

"If I must," he sighed, "rain check?"

"No," Roxie walked past them and out the door.

"You know," Arthur tried to wrench free from Cobb, "I think I forgot something."

"Oh no you don't," Cobb gripped him tighter and Eames grabbed his other side.

"Remind me to send Yusuf an email later thanking him."

Eames helped Cobb haul Arthur to his car.

"What for?"

Eames smirked, "Best damn reception I've ever attended."

* * *

**FINALLY! It's over! Thank God! Sorry life got in the way. I want to reiterate that the town was made up and I have not betaed. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Deleted Scene 1

**Title:**The Tattoo

**Deleted Scene:** Dom and Ariadne's Relationship Ousted.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**Warning:**None I can think of… Oh this is parody. Don't take it seriously.

**A/N: **I've decided to post some missing/ deleted scenes, mostly because a few have mentioned they would like to see a part I didn't discuss. I sadly forgot who requested/mentioned they wanted to see what the teams reaction would be to Dom and Ariadne's relationship. I used Phillipa as a vessel and while it's a little sad, Arthur helps make it funny. Enjoy.

* * *

Arthur should have known something was not right with Phillipa when arriving at James party. She greeted him in a less than thrilled tone and now as everyone was outside celebrating, she was inside. He questioned Dom only to be told that she said she wasn't feeling well and while Dom could by that excuse, Arthur was not as easily fooled.

He found her sitting on the couch in the living room, kicking her feet idly as they dangled off the edge while watching a cartoon Arthur was not familiar with. He took a seat beside her and didn't speak. She was a child, yes. However, if she wanted to talk about what was bothering her, she would do so in her own time. Arthur was not one to pressure, especially is favorite unofficial niece. As expected, once commercials started playing she looked over at him with a frown.

"Uncle Arthur?"

"Hmm," he said pretending he wasn't waiting for her to speak.

"Do you believe in heaven?" He was not expecting that. Hiding his shock, he blinked.

"Why do you ask?" He didn't want to lie to her; it was not his place to push his beliefs.

"Do you think mom's in heaven?" She asked seriously, ignoring her program as it came back on the screen.

He was officially nervous. Shouldn't she be talking to Dom about this? Why didn't Dom talk about this with her?

"Yes," he told her; she deserved that answer.

"Can you get mad in heaven?"

"I don't think so. Heaven is a happy place. Is there a reason why you think you could get mad in heaven?" She shrugged. "What makes you think your mother would be mad?"

"I'm scared she's mad at daddy," she whispered. Not really knowing what to do, he scooted to her and she climbed in his lap.

"Phillipa, your mom is not mad at your dad. I promise."

"But Uncle Arthur," she blinked with watery eyes that broke his heart. "What if she is? If she's mad at daddy then she'd be mad at me."

"Honey, what would make her mad? She could never mad at you." He told her seriously.

"But I like Ari and that would make her mad."

"Ariadne?" She nodded. "Phillipa, explain it to me."

"Well," she rubbed her nose with her hand, "Ari's really nice and really fun." She bit her lip as if she was embarrassed to continue.

"Okay," Arthur reassured her, brushing her brown hair behind her ear to get it out of her face. "What else?"

"Daddy really likes her." She whispered with wide-eyes.

"I like Ariadne too," Arthur told her hoping to help.

Phillipa scrunched her brows puzzled. "But daddy _really_ likes her, like he liked mom. Do you think mommy would get mad if she knew?"

Arthur let her works slowly filter through the gears in his mind. Blinking and praying he was wrong he asked her "Like her like a friend? What- can you elab- like how, Phillipa?"

"When she comes over he gives her a kiss on the lips, like he used to kiss mom."

Arthur was _definitely_ not expecting that.

"I don't think you're mom's mad, Phillipa." He said quickly. "She's in heaven and she's happy for everyone, even your dad and Ari. Does that answer your question?"

She nodded with a smile. Thankful she took his explanation; he gently picked her up and moved her back to her previous spot.

"I'm going to go outside, I'll be back okay?"

"I love you," she said and hugged him.

He told her he loved her too and kissed her check before getting off the couch. No longer having to mask he emotions, he did his best not to stomp out to the door. Outside, he saw everyone where he left them with the adults to the right and James and his friends out of earshot to the left. He made a straight line to the one person he had business to discuss with.

"You," Arthur said sternly causing everyone to watch him tread heavily over in mild shock. He pointed a finger at Dom who blinked in confusion. "You mean to tell me all this time it was _you!_ And you," he stared at Ariadne after stopping in front of them, "you two are seeing each other and you didn't me! Why didn't you two tell me?"

Everyone, (except for Miles who seemed to be biting his cheek in order to hold back laughter) stared at Dom and Ariadne. Dom looked stunned beyond words and Ariadne's face flushed red.

"Um, surprise?" She forced a smile shrugged.

"That was unexpected," Eames muttered in a less than surprised tone.

"I guess now would be a good time to mention we're technically engaged." Dom muttered.

"Technically," Ariadne added in emphasis.

"How did I not know this," Arthur grumbled, still staring. "I'm a point man. It's my job to know this."

"Someone's slacking," Eames chuckled.

"I'm going to go back and rot my mind with Phillipa." Arthur turned back toward the house. He stopped and glanced back "Oh, and Dom, talk to your children. Phillipa thinks Mal is mad at you for seeing Ariadne."

"What? She said that?" Dom asked.

"Yes," Arthur said curtly before stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

* * *

**I don't know where Yusuf is... He's there I guess. I don't know, I was sleepy when I wrote this and too lazy to edit. yay.  
**


	12. Deleted Scene 2

**Title:**The Tattoo

**Deleted Scene:** Two- Arthur's phone call

**Rating:** T

**Warning:** Adult situations (whatever that means… no smex though. Sorry. Just preggy talk)

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**A/N:** This is the phone call he got when he left Ariadne and Eames in the reception hall. FYI, I'm not using this as a stance against abortion. I'm not promoting it either. My personal opinion is mine alone and is not present in this story. Any scenario mentioned is just a scenario: nothing else. I'm supposed to be writing two essays due tomorrow and this is what I come up with. Way to go procrastination!

* * *

The parking lot was empty save a few people Arthur didn't know. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he leaned against a pillar supporting the small cover at the front door and placed the phone back to his ear.

"Well, what did they say?" He tried to say it in a non-irritated tone.

"_Do not snap at me."_ His masking of his tone didn't work and she was angry; her French accent always became thicker when she was angry. "_You are not the only one that is stressed."_

"Honey- I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it come out that way."

"_But you are mad at me, oui? I have not even told you anything and you are angry with me."_ She sounded close to tears now and his stomach churned.

"I'm not angry, especially not at you." He paused and asked meekly, "What did the doctor tell you?" There was a long pause and he wondered if Cécile hung up on him.

"_I'm pregnant."_ She muttered. "_I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. We were careful! I was careful!_" Then she started muttering French curses.

"Calm down," Arthur said automatically. He personally was on the edge of the nervous breakdown, but the trained Point Man in him kept him focused. "It's not your fault."

"_But it is! I should have been braver and got a shot instead of the stupid pill."_ She was crying and his stomach did another twist on itself.

"Honey, don't cry. It's not your fault and… this isn't a bad thing. It doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"_Wh-what do you mean?"_ she sniffled.

"What I mean is," he sighed. He needed more time for this to process. "We'll talk about it more when I get back to Paris alright?"

"_Arthur, I don't think… I want to keep it. I don't think I want an abortion."_ She replied quietly. "_My sister, she got rid of hers and it hurt her."_

He nodded even though she couldn't see him. He remembered when her younger sister accidently got pregnant from a one night stand and ended up staying with him and Cécile for a few weeks after she 'took care of it' as she put it. While it was best for the situation, her heart wasn't in it. He'd never seen someone so depressed. They finally took her to her and Cécile's parents to stay while she got the help she needed.

"I know. If that's your decision… even if you change your mind, I'm not going anywhere." He added slowly, "Unless you want me too."

Five months was not a long time to be romantically involved. Yet for Arthur, this was his longest relationship to date. He never had time for women, not ones he truly could care for at least. In the business of dreams, attachment was ill advised, Mal and Dom the prime example of what could go wrong.

Yet, that was before he met Cécile. A chance meeting: he literally ran into her on the street. They didn't even exchange names after he helped pick her things up. Then in a weird twist, he saw her again in a café on the other side of Paris the next day. Ariadne teased him that it was fate knowing he didn't believe in such frivolous things. Now he was starting to wonder if he was wrong.

"_Vous êtes __trop __bonne __pour __moi__."_ She laughed through tears and he heard her sniffle.

"Non, vous êtes trop bon pour _moi_." He whispered back. "Do you have to go anywhere else today?"

"_No." _

"Stay home and rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

"_I love you."_

"I love you too."

Arthur hung up the phone and leaned back against the pillar to stare up at the ceiling. After a long sigh, weight of the conversation came crashing down on him. He was going to be a father. Almost robotically, he stood upright and walked inside. Arthur wasn't a drinker but he decided since he was at a wedding reception he might as well make good use of the alcohol. He damn sure needed it.

* * *

**Aw, he's so sweet with his uptight-self :P  
Fyi: **_Vous êtes __trop __bonne __pour __moi__. _**Means "**You're too good to me."


	13. Deleted Scene 3

**Title:**The Tattoo

**Deleted Scene:** Three- When Eames Met Roxie

**Rating:** T

**Warning:** Contains an OC… I know how much you people hate them.

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**A/N: **For Miss Caitie Jo, who just LOVES Eames. Lol and I promised I'd get this up and loaded like… the day before yesterday… . This is more of just a boring description that I didn't put in because I thought it was boring. Why I'm showing it now, I honestly don't know O_o

* * *

After two and a half weeks of successful surveillance on both the Mark and his forge subject, Eames decided to reward himself with a drink. He did not tell the others where he was going; the last thing he needed was a lecture from Cobb or Arthur. Eames settled on the first one he came to, which was not far from their warehouse.

Once inside, he assessed his surroundings. Judging on the décor and condition of the interior itself, it was family owned and had been around for quite some time. Pre-prohibition if the black and white photos were an indication. He then concluded the family must have been in the upper class of society- that or they had bootlegger roots. Not many facilities were able to reopen during the depression after prohibition was repealed. At least, that was always his understanding of American history.

There was a jazz era feel to the place and he half expected a stage to pop up with one of those big bands as they were called. However, there was only red cushioned booths and a stereo in the ceiling that softly played what sounded like instrumentals of modern popular music. After glancing at his watch, he realized it was still early in the drinking world and the establishment was empty save for him. Eames decided to take a corner booth. He was greeted by a redheaded waitress whose nametag read Roxie.

She didn't look like a Roxie; her features were too soft and much too kind. An Elizabeth or Jane, Rachael or Stacy fit her better. She was quiet too. If he hadn't been looking at her directly he would have never heard what she said. He decided before he walked in he would order Scotch. American beer was too weak and he wasn't fond of rum. He knew how to pace himself with Scotch; the last thing he needed was a hangover in the morning.

"Startin a bit early aren't you?" The girl joked softly. He could hear an accent; it was faint and well hidden but there nonetheless.

"Where I'm from love, it's near about quitting time." He flashed her a sly smile.

He held that smile for a moment longer when he noticed her cheeks tint a pink color. She mumbled that she would return momentarily. Eames leaned back in his booth and watched her without realizing he was staring. That was the problem with being good at his job: the people-watching trait never turned off. From the moment she told the bartender to make his drink and the moment she returned to him with it, he studied her every move.

In that short amount of time, he deuced she was insecure about her appearance. It showed mostly in the numerous times she absentmindedly tugged on her clothes, reassuring herself they were in place. There was also the tugging at her hair, smoothing it and tucking it back several times. He couldn't understand why, she was a very pretty girl. Her hair was reddish-brown and straight. From the amount flyaways, he decided it was normally curly.

If he had to pick a favorite thing about her face on spot, Eames would have to say it was her eyes. They were beautifully shaped with light blue irises. They reminded him of a childhood friend who long since passed on. What amused him the most was she obviously recently obtained contacts. He caught her pushing her index finger up her the bridge of her nose as if to slide up glasses only to frown when her finger met only the space between her eyes.

She was only shy around strangers. The second she was amongst co-workers, her voice grew louder and she talked more animatedly. Eames ended up chuckling a bit when he watched her start to twirl about to the song playing on the speakers, only to get a playful chastising from another waitress. She finally returned with his drink and she blushed once more when he told her 'thank you' with a large grin.

Eames did not stay long; soon more patrons began to file in, many greeted by name with a grin from the waitress. He continued watching her whilst slowly drinking his Scotch. She was very vibrant when she suspected no one was looking. He paid his bill and caught her eye before leaving. He flashed her another smile and a wink. Her response was again to blush and look away.

After he walked out the door, he decided he would return tomorrow. He blamed the Forger in him. Eames was always looking for new guises to try out in the dream world and he was in need of a more subtle appearance. One that wouldn't attract as much attention as his blonde and the little waitress seemed to fit the bill. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

* * *

**Yeah… whatever Eames. Keep telling yourself that ;)**


	14. Deleted Scene 4

**Title:**The Tattoo

**Deleted Scene:** Four- Content.

**Rating:** T

**Warning:** Contains an OC… two of them! I know how much you people hate them. And there are parts that scream overly cuteness.

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing, I am not the Senior HBIC (that would be Michael Caine), I am not THE HBIC (That would be Nolan… or the Spinning Top, whichever is available) and sadly my name is not Mrs. Tom Hardy, Mrs. Leonardo DiCaprio, nor Mrs. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In my dreams maybe… but not here.

**A/N: **This is the last one! I promise! And Happy Birthday Miss Caitie Jo! This is for you =) Sorry it took so long… again. I've lost some creative ability it seems. Anyways, enjoy. It's not beta'd.

* * *

If Arthur could go back in time and tell himself that every decision he would make once he signed on with the Cobbs would lead up to this moment, he'd probably call himself a liar. _That _ Arthur never wanted a family. He'd watched his sister's fall apart and seen the heartache it brought her. Then when Mal passed away, that was what solidified the sentiment. Arthur had always wanted kids, which was a problem for a short amount of time. He loved kids and adored Phillipa and James as if they were his own. That solved the problem and was enough for him.

Yet now- now he was sure that he'd been wrong. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone but himself. He didn't bother to glance at the door when there was a knock; he was too busy studying two small brown eyes that mirrored his own.

"Every time I come in here, you're holding him. Don't you think you should share with your wife?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked up at Eames. He scrunched his nose out of habit at the hideous bright orange shirt he was wearing.

"I thought Roxie burnt that shirt." He retorted, carefully standing.

The blue bundle he was holding squirmed in his arms as he stepped over to the hospital bed. Cécile sat up, held out her arms, and took it from him.

"You look more rested today," Eames commented looking her over.

Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail; there were still light bags under her blue eyes but nothing compared to what Eames saw the night before after she'd been in labor for twelve hours.

"He stayed in the nursery last night." She then cooed, "Yes, he did. Mummy got to sleep all night."

She laid the blanket down, it falling away to reveal the tiny baby inside. With a head full of blonde hair and dark brown eyes, he looked the perfect mix of his parents.

"Where is-" Arthur started but was interrupted.

His question was answered with a high squeal. A flash of red hair and something dark blue rounded the corner and was at Cécile's bedside in seconds. When she stopped, the blue that was Roxie's dress swirled around her ankles. She practically crawled onto the bed with Cécile to give her a loose hug.

"How are you feeling? Arthur's letting you rest, right?"

"Yes," she laughed, leaning back onto the bed. "If anyone's not letting me rest, it's this little man."

She motioned to the baby beside her, right in front of Roxie.

"Oh my gosh!" She breathed picking him up. Pulling him to her chest, she stood and cradled his head in the crook of her right arm, allowing the rest to hold his body. She adjusted the blanket out of his face with her left hand. "Hello there handsome," she cooed. "What's your name?"

"Dax," Cécile replied happily.

"Dax?" Roxie lifted her eyes and brows up to Cécile questioningly. "Before I say anything else, who picked out that name?"

"I did," Arthur crossed his arms and gave her a challenging glare.

"Oh you poor baby," she said sadly, bouncing Dax in her arms. "Auntie Roxie's going to have to give you a good nickname."

"His middle name is Nicodemus, right?" Eames added, mostly hoping to avoid some random renaming Roxie was fond of.

"Yes, that would be Cécile's contribution."

"Oh that's adorable!" She said sweetly and nuzzled the top of the baby's head.

"You only say that because Cécile chose it," Arthur grumbled.

"No, she thinks it's adorable because it's better." Eames smirked.

"You'll be my little Nico." Roxie ignored them and whispered to the baby. "You like that Nico?"

"Well I like it," Cécile replied with a yawn. "Do you like that Arthur?"

"Sadly, yes."

"It's settled!" Roxie beamed. "See, Auntie Roxie is good for something."

"Yes, well I hate to cut this short however," Eames walked over to her and smiled at the newly dubbed Nico, "While she looks more rested, I'm certain Cécile is still exhausted."

She frowned but inwardly agreed. She walked over to Arthur and handed over the baby, giving the little boy one last kiss on the forehead.

"I really am sorry I missed yesterday." She gave Arthur and Cécile an apologetic smile to prove her point.

"It wasn't your fault the airlines can't keep it together." He reassured her.

"You can make it up with Ariadne," Cécile yawned again. "She's absolutely adorable with her little bump."

"I bet she is. I can't believe I missed them!" Roxie exclaimed and pouted. "Everyone's having babies. I want a baby."

"No." Everyone looked at Arthur who did not seem apologetic in his statement. "Eames is not allowed to have children. The rest of the world and myself can do without little Anti-Christs running around."

"Arthur you're horrible!" Cécile laughed.

"I never said it had to be his," Roxie added and Eames shot her a look. "What?"

"It's a little late to prevent the spawning of Anti-Christs don't you think?" Eames smarted back at Arthur.

"My son is an angel." He retorted.

"You say that now. Wait until he turns two and the horns come out."

"Boys, really?" Roxie rolled her eyes. She grabbed Eames and headed to the door, adding cheerfully, "Bye Cécile. Get some rest. I'll call you when I get my pregnancy test back."

"What!"

"I'm just kidding-"

The door shut cutting off the conversation. Arthur gave his wife a sideways glance as he put their son back in his hospital cot.

"She was joking right?"

She shrugged, "Maybe." She then rolled to her side and turned off the light above the bed. "I'm going to nap. You should too."

Arthur turned off the rest of the lights in the room, the thick curtains letting in just enough sunrays to see by. He walked over to her bed and climbed in beside her once she scooted over. He snuggled against her, draped his arm around her and they slowly fell asleep.

* * *

**Daaaawwwww. Ain't that cute! XD I'm so mean to Eames… I really am. I might do a Roxie and Eames spin off but Idk. If Miss Caitie Jo hounds me I might XD. THANK YOU ALL! Again. XD**


End file.
